Tiers and Hopes
by Shana Hager
Summary: Part scrapped story arc from L is Real 2016, part sociological and psychological study. Smash is fun and games...until the tier list comes along. Emphasis is placed on Smash 64, but I will include some of Melee and Brawl. Rated T for violence, intense moments and alcohol use, but it may eventually be rated M. Partially inspired by 1Thunderfire.
1. The List

**The List**

Before the unification of several different gaming entities, Smash was a low-key get-together comprising of twelve representatives from the Nintendo universe. The idea was engendered by the mysterious but benevolent Master Hand, who decided to knock down the borders between Nintendo's different worlds by calling the Original Twelve together to test their skills, first against one another, and finally against him. He left time for fun and games, too, quickly establishing several lounges, a spa, lodging for the fighters, a Training Room and goodness knows what else. Thanks to the giant glove's efforts, deep friendships had sprung up among the twelve in no time.

It started off something like this. On April 26, 1999, the Original Twelve entered the halls of the Smash Mansion for the first time. Master Hand quickly situated them in a spacious room known as the Reception Area for an initial bonding period and to introduce himself and explain how the tournament would be organized. After introductions, Master assigned the Smashers to their own bedrooms and declared the rest of the day a "leisure day".

The next morning, everyone woke up at around 7a.m. and sat in the cafeteria to eat breakfast. After breakfast, Master summoned everyone to the Assembly Hall to announce that the tournament's first matches had been arranged. Those and future matches would be tacked onto a corkboard in the Main Hall. After everyone got a good look at their schedule for the day, they retreated to the lounge for some last minute decompression. The fighters headed off to meet their opponents at 9a.m. sharp.

Master Hand was extremely pleased at what he saw that day, and the days after. Not only the bonds forged, but the tenacity displayed on the battlefield. Organizing this was a shot in the dark, and it appeared to have paid off.

Yet a few weeks later, the dynamic of the tournament would be shifted. And it all began with a piece of paper…

…the tier list.

* * *

Master Hand brought his giant palm down on his alarm clock and groggily floated out of bed. He went straight to the shower, doused himself with cold water and then took a four-minute shower before drying off, attending to his toilette and then fixing himself a hearty meal of scrambled eggs, bacon and French toast. Once he was full, he sounded the breakfast call for the Smashers and retreated to his office.

He sat at his desk, booted up his computer and signed in to his dial-up Internet service. As soon as he clicked on his e-mail account:

"You've got mail!"

And important mail, no less. The e-mail was from Mr. Sakurai, the tournament's financier. After receiving glowing reports from Master, he had decided to increase the funds to help cover the Smashers' expenses. But that wasn't what his email was about.

A team of well-seasoned gamers, led by Mr. Sakurai, had composed a tier list to serve as a springboard for competitive play. Master wasn't wild about the tier list—he was certain that it would instill more hostile competition among his fighters, and he didn't want that. But then again, Sakurai was keeping the dough flowing in, and he knew what was best for Smash. So why complain?

Master looked the document over for a minute or so. Then, he clicked "Print".

Low whining and humming filled the air as the printer slowly inched the piece of paper from its mouth. Master's fingers hovered outside its cavernous maw as the machine worked its magic. And with one last hum, it expelled the warm paper, Master grasping it and holding it up where he could see.

"Very nice," he murmured.

He began the leisurely journey from his office to the Main Hall, allowing the tier list to dangle from his fingers. To get to the Main Hall, he first had to traverse the Housing Area, where the twelve bedrooms were located. Doors opened slightly, curious pairs of eyes peeping out at the powerful entity and the paper he had in his fingers. Master Hand knew they were watching, but he paid them no mind. He'd let them discover what he was holding on their own.

Out of one door peeped Nintendo's unofficial spokesperson and Smash's all-around fighter, Mario "Jumpman" Mario. He entered the workforce as a carpenter on the lookout for a certain hairy ape and switched from construction sites to sewers, sinks and toilets after two years. Another two years went by before he ventured into a fantasyland, becoming enraptured by its beautiful, fair-haired and gentle ruler and helping her fight off a hulking reptile of an enemy. Once peace was restored, Mario instantly became a champion of sports, dabbled in medicine and even refereed a boxing match. With his red getup, Mario was as iconic as iconic would get.

Out of another door peeped the King of the Jungle, DK. This grinning ape wearing a tie was currently on good terms with Mario. The cease-fire was initiated shortly before Mario launched his plumbing career, with DK deciding to change his ways and his former trainer agreeing to have him sent back home to his family. DK helped defeat King K. Rool and his band of thieves before settling in the aforementioned fantasy wonderland, soon becoming a staple in the many kart races and sporting events it hosted. He enjoyed eating bananas, playing his bongos and expanding—well, you get the idea.

Out of a third door peeped the Hero of Time, Link. The wielder of the Master Sword was an expert ocarina player and was quickly recognized on the battlefield by his high-pitched cry of "Hyaaaah!" He bore the Triforce of Courage and rode into adventures astride his loyal horse, Epona. His tiny faerie, Navi, was always by his side ("Hey, listen!"). Link was still a boy, but he showed remarkable strength and bravery. Hyrule should be counting its blessings.

Out of a fourth door peeped the helmeted visage of Samus Aran, space warrior. Her life hadn't been an easy one. She was born on a colony of Planet Zebes which was later attacked by space pirates. Her parents had met their bloody end at the hands of the pirates' leader, Ridley. The orphaned girl was adopted and trained in combat by the people known as the Chozo, the creators of the Varia suit she wore during all of her adventures. Samus took on Mother Brain and the deadly Metroid race before squaring off against Ridley and defeating him multiple times. Perched on her shoulder was a baby Metroid she decided to raise as her own.

Out of a fifth door poked the head of Yoshi, the lovable green dinosaur. According to legend, Yoshi and his brethren raised Mario when he was a tiny baby, before he settled in Brooklyn, New York. Yoshi wore brown sneakers and used his sticky tongue to grab opponents. The opponent would be swallowed and laid as a spotted egg from which they could eventually escape. Yoshi maintained his role as Mario's helpful buddy, giving him rides in his quests since 1991. By himself, Yoshi saved the Happy Tree from being chopped down.

Out of a sixth door puffed the rotund, rosaceous body of the cute but capable Star Warrior, Kirby. He was considered premature by Star Warrior terms, since the starship he slept in went into Warp Mode before he was fully developed. That starship crash-landed in Dreamland, located on the planet Popstar. Despite his big eyes, stubby arms and overall naïve worldview, Kirby used his powerful Copy Abilities to defeat fearsome monsters. In Smash, he gained prominence by inhaling foes and copying their standard special moves, gaining an adorable hat for each fighter he imitated.

Out of a seventh door flicked the ears of Fox McCloud, leader of a mercenary team known as Star Fox. He'd solemnly affirmed to protect the Lylat System until his dying breath, and though he could be a bit cocky and snobbish, he'd upheld that vow. He overcame personal tragedy, the death of his father, James, to triumph over Andross. Fox became a staple in Smash by way of his quick, martial-arts style attacks, his Blaster, his Reflector and his Firefox.

Out of an eighth door peeped Pikachu, Electric-type Mouse Pokémon with his lightning bolt-shaped tail and his red cheeks, where his electricity was stored. He was the poster boy of these pocket monsters, which had tournaments of their own, conducted by trainers who caught, taught and nurtured them. In Smash, Pikachu's electricity gave him quite the competitive edge over the other fighters, and with his Quick Attack, he could vault to safety at any moment. After a long day, the fighters wanted nothing more than to curl up with Pikachu and a good book.

After meeting their gazes, Master Hand passed by four rooms with their doors tightly shut. These were the rooms of the Formidable Four, four secret fighters simply bursting with anticipation over unveiling their battling prowess. You'll hear about them later.

Now arriving at his destination, Master Hand stuck the tier list onto the bulletin board, right next to the day's matchups. He stood back and nodded admiringly at his work. Then, he turned around and floated back the same way he'd come, the peering eyes now retreating back into the doors. He had no way of knowing he'd just set an exciting day into motion.

While Master was putting up the tier list, one fighter had observed his actions intently. This fighter now emerged from his hiding spot and crept over to the list on catlike feet.

It was none other than Mario, Mr. Video Game Himself, and he was itching to see his position before the area became swamped by a frenzied crowd.

Little did he know that he'd get way more than he bargained for…


	2. Installing the Pecking Order

**Installing the Pecking Order**

 _ **Social stratification**_ **(n):** _ **a system by which a society of people are ranked in a hierarchal arrangement. "**_ _ **In the United States, it is perfectly clear that some groups have greater status, power, and wealth than other groups."**_

 **-Kimberly Moffitt, "Social Stratification: Definition, Theories and Examples" n.d.; retrieved from**

So this was the tier list. Printed on ordinary, eight-by-eleven inch white paper from ordinary printing ink made from a combination of cyan, yellow and pink colors. Listed from top to bottom were the twelve fighters, each denoted by a cartoonish, 2-D portrait. Beside each portrait was a number between 1 and 12.

A finger, gloved in the color of the paper, slowly trailed down the tier list. Mario's gloved finger, searching for his own picture, skimming past the dark numbers on the crisp sheet of paper. And as the numbers counted upward with the precision of a machine, Mario's brow began to furrow, deepening as the numbers grew.

1…

2…

3…

4…

5…

6…

There!

In the number 7 spot, just below the middle, there he was. Mario tapped his picture contemplatively, his lips pursing slightly as he thought about being ranked one slot below a certain pink Balloon Pokémon, two slots below Yoshi and glaringly outranked by a vulpine, a racecar driver, a fluffy pink marshmallow and a yellow mouse who shot electricity. After bestowing defeat after defeat upon a princess-stealing turtle, Mario was stunned to be ranked so low. His status as an all-around had earned him not only a Thumbs-Up from Master Hand but also unofficial second-in-command duties and the privilege of being a spokesperson for the Smashers. He half-expected to be among the top three or four, at the very least. So far, he'd performed amazingly and showed his opponents as well as the audience why he made the Toads of his new home feel safe at night. What was he doing in the middle tier?

Disheartened, Mario leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. After all he'd done to keep his Princess and her subjects safe, all Master Hand had to offer him was the number seven slot? Who did he think he was? What made an electric mouse and a puffball better than him? Yes, he lost some matches as well as won some, but of all the tier positions, he just had to be stuck in the middle? He had a good mind to march right up to that disembodied glove and…

He immediately shoved those angry, self-pitying thoughts from his mind. It wasn't Master Hand who composed this tier list, anyway. All heroes had weaknesses as well as strengths, and just because he wasn't as ranked as high as he hoped didn't mean that he was no longer capable of protecting the Mushroom Kingdom. Besides, being in the middle was not that bad. And he couldn't count out the fact that seven was a lucky number. While he questioned his placement on the tier list, he felt that he could make do with it.

Having accepted his lower-than-desired ranking, Mario smiled. "Okeydokey," he said to himself. Maybe he'd order a plate of spaghetti and meatballs at the cafeteria. He'd feel substantially better after that.

This state of nirvana was short-lived due to thoughts of another fighter he held near and dear to his heart. He allowed his finger to resume its skimming journey, and as the numbers continued to increase and he passed the likes of Samus and DK, the red-capped hero who smashed bricks and blocks with his fist grew acutely sick to his stomach.

8.

9.

10.

11.

Oh, _Dio_ , no.

His finger was now at the last slot on the tier list, twelfth place. And there, without any speck of doubt, was the portrait of the most valuable, reliable and loving sidekick a hero could ever have—his little brother.

This had to be some sort of mistake. Luigi couldn't be that awful—he just couldn't! He was taller than Mario and also jumped higher. Mario had attended every last one of his matches as a spectator. Every. Last. One. And in all of them, he had been left breathless by Luigi's speed, power, versatility and innovation. In his moveset had come an assortment of combo tools, and his favorite combo finisher was a handy, quaint little move known as the Super Jump Punch. Mario had this move, as well, but Luigi's variation came equipped with this secret spot he had to work to get his foes into. If he was successful, then— _ **PIIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGGGG!**_ One fiery wowza of an uppercut, coming up!

But like Mario, Luigi had flaws. One of them being his notoriously poor traction, which could both hurt and help him. The prime flaw was that in Smash, Luigi was considered Mario's inferior clone. Heck, that was all he'd been considered these days. He shared Mario's attacks, or most of them, but their damage outputs were noticeably lower. His dash attack, while unique, was weaker, being a wild flurry of punches. Luigi was a floaty fighter with overall poor mobility and approach issues, and his matchups were considered among the worst in the tournament thus far. Insult to injury? Luigi had happily filled out the application to enter the tournament, hoping to escape the looming shadow of his elder brother. Once he had come out of hiding, so to speak, he was going to set this tournament ablaze (figuratively speaking, of course) with what he could do! And how did these suits treat him? They decided that he was nothing, stuck him dead last and cast him back into obscurity. Life could be cruel sometimes.

"Mamma-mia," sighed Mario, hand over his forehead, as he turned away from the list. There were no options. He had to tell him, had to cushion the blow somehow. He had to help him process this setback. But he didn't want to be the one blasting Luigi's aspirations to bits. Luigi had his moments of uncertainty while filling out the application and while getting situated that first day. This piece of news would be detrimental to his self-esteem.

In the back of his mind, Mario knew that Luigi would sense that he was hiding something. All siblings would. And when he saw that list and figured out that his big bro knew beforehand, there would be trouble. Luigi would probably not speak to him for a long time, perhaps never again. It was akin to choosing between risking his life trekking through eight worlds and leaving the Princess in her enemy's greedy claws. Both sounded awful, yet one was better than the other.

Perhaps there was a way to work around this…

* * *

With leaden footsteps, Mario headed over to Luigi's room, located next to his, to break the morale-diminishing news.

Now, these two rooms were connected by a side door located inside each room, allowing one brother to visit the other at leisure. Other rooms had this accommodation, but these two utilized it more than the rest of the roster combined. So much, in fact, that they left their side door partially open most of the time.

Mario took a deep breath and knocked on Luigi's door. "Luigi!" he called.

"Come in," replied the voice of his baby bro.

Mario entered the room and quickly found his sibling, rocking out to some grunge tunes on his stereo.

As far as job choices, Luigi loved rolling up his sleeves and doing hands-on work. While Mario labored on construction sites, Luigi worked as a small-time mechanic. In 1983, once the tension with DK deflated, Luigi suggested that they enter the plumbing business together. For two years they worked in the sewage pipes, one of which led them to that mushroomy fantasy world. In 1986, they set up a business of their own, Mario Bros. Plumbing, graduating to less stinky jobs such as toilets and sinks. This business flourished while they commuted regularly between the Mushroom Kingdom and Brooklyn via Warp Pipes. Both bros were equally credited when it came to plumbing jobs, and their salaries were nearly the same. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case when it came to their more heroic pursuits.

Although he was concealed in Mario's shadow most of the time, Luigi had a small degree of popularity among the Toads and New Yorkers back home. As previously stated, Luigi was taller than Mario and a higher jumper. His hair was also styled similarly, wavy, with a few short bangs at the back, but its brown color was a shade darker than Mario's. Bold blue eyes enhanced any emotion playing across his face. Three years earlier, he was mysteriously excluded from an adventure involving going through portraits in the Princess's castle and collecting various Stars. However, he actively participated in a kart racing tournament shortly thereafter, where he performed to the best of his ability, taking the shebang by storm. Though he didn't really know it yet, Luigi had many loyal and adoring fans eagerly awaiting his appearance.

Presently, Luigi turned down his music and smiled at his big bro. "Hey, Mario!"

The two plumbers shared a loving embrace.

"Isn't this place amazing?" gushed Luigi. "There are multiple lounges, an ice cream parlor, spacious Training Areas—even an arcade and a movie theater! Master Hand's spoiling us like kids!"

"Tell me about it," smiled Mario. "How's your day been?"

"Aside from a few bruises, I can't complain," winked Luigi. "Oh, and thanks for sitting up in the front row where I can see you. How's your day in Smash going so far?"

"Smashing," shrugged Mario. "Say, you want to go to the cafeteria and get some spaghetti? It's on me."

Luigi scrutinized Mario. "You're hiding something."

Mario sighed deeply; he knew his brother would see through him. "Yep."

"What's going on, Bro? I mean, what's _really_ going on?"

Mario prayed to his Star Sprites for strength as he steered Luigi toward the bed. "You might want to sit down for this," he warned, "and you're going to need a stiff drink, too."

"Just tell me."

"L, Master Hand put the tier list up a few minutes ago," Mario began.

"Yeah, he _did_ say something about a tier list," mused Luigi. "You saw it?"

"Yes. I was curious as to where I was, and I wanted to sneak a peek before word got out, so after MH left, I went over there and looked."

"And?"

"I was in the B-tier, seventh place."

Luigi shrugged. "That's not too bad. I'm proud of you. Who was first?"

"Pikachu," responded Mario, "and Kirby came in second."

There was a beat between them.

"What else are you not telling me?" asked Luigi.

Mario's heart thudded in his chest. "Well—I saw your ranking, too," he confessed. "It didn't look good."

"So, you're saying—what are you saying?" demanded Luigi. "Where did they place me on the list?"

"Lu—I'm sorry to say that you're ranked pretty low," sighed Mario. "Truly, I regret having to tell you this. I know that you hoped to break out on your own in this tournament. But don't get discouraged. So far, you've shown us all some impressive stuff."

"Who was I to expect more?" Luigi asked after a tense silence. "Nobody knows me, and if they do, they know me as 'the Green Mario'. Of course, those guys in the suits don't think I'll last a year in this place."

"I'm so sorry, Lil' Bro," Mario reiterated. "I just thought you should know before it hits you in the face."

There was barely any motion in Luigi's eyes now. He was probably trying to process what Mario had told him. "I could use that stiff drink right now," he said finally. "Would you care to join me?"

* * *

The existence of the tier list wasn't made public until shortly after noon. It was enough time for Luigi to steel himself for the reality of his placement—or so he thought.

"Left hand—green!"

In the meantime, Luigi was willing to cast those thoughts away in favor of a nice game of Twister with the other members of the Formidable Four. There they were, tangled up on the white mat with the red, blue, yellow and green dots on it, giggling and shrieking and struggling to maintain equilibrium as Fox called out direction determined by spinning a wheel.

We've already met Luigi, the tour-de-force of a younger brother and a pretty darn good kart racer, to say the least. He favored green as his color, the color of the hat bouncing around on his head as he twisted himself up with three other bodies. This hat had the letter "L" stamped right in the center, and let me tell you, this "L" didn't stand for "loser". He always looked forward to a sporting event or a kart race back home, for prior to this year, they were the primary outlets for his stress and aggression over Mario getting all of the accolades for the adventures they took on together, leaving him with hardly anything. Yet in spite of the fame inequality between them and the dynamics it fostered, Luigi loved his brother truly, madly and deeply, and he'd do anything to defend him.

The pink, Fairy-type Balloon Pokémon occupying the middle spot of the tier list was Jigglypuff. This little cutie had the ability to put her foes to sleep using her gentle, irresistible melodies. Whilst in this slumber, said foes could be smashed out of the arena or drawn on using a black, felt-tipped marker. When the latter happened, hilarity erupted. Besides singing, taking a nap was another secret weapon for Jiggs. If she fell asleep right next to an opponent, she'd launch them sky high. Jiggs would be highly recommended for people who were stressed out or had sleeping problems.

The masked, helmeted man with the amazing abs was Douglas Jay Falcon. All that was known about him was that he raced for the F-Zero Grand Prix and was also a bounty hunter. In Smash, Captain Falcon constantly exhorted the other fighters to "Show me ya moves!" He couldn't take his eyes off of Samus and spent most of his time flirting with her. Publicly, she denied a crush on him, but secretly, she flirted right back. Without question, Falcon's ticket to victory was his…"FALCOOOOOOOOOOON PAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWNCH!" Wow—it looked like a falcon, too!

The thirteen-year-old with the striped shirt and baseball cap was Ness, the boy from Onett. Ness was a whiz at doing yo-yo tricks and was quite eager to show them off to his opponents, with very painful results. Also, Ness was armed and ready with his baseball bat, either to hit a home run in a leisurely baseball game or to batter up on the battlefield. When a meteor crashed into his backyard, Ness was catapulted into an adventure alongside his friends, Paula, Jeff and Poo, to stop the evil Gigyas from taking over the world. Along the way, they learned a powerful technique known as PSI. This PSI fueled Ness's attacks in Smash, and three key moves made it in as his specials: PK Fire, PK Thunder (taught to him by Paula) and PSI Magnet.

These four secret fighters wasted no time establishing common ground and forming a mini-"fraternity", so to speak. They spent most of their time together, eating together, lounging together and even hosting sleepovers together. Sure, they hung around with the Great Eight, too, but their logic was that all hidden characters should stick together.

In a few short hours, though, all of that would change.

Fox continued to spin the wheel and call out commands to put this hand or foot on that color. These directives were growing increasingly impossible as the limbs of one became entwined with the limbs of another, hence the name of the game. The Formidable Four squealed with delight as they tried to remember which limb was where and move it as instructed, feeling the limbs below them shifting and threatening to knock them off balance. They laughed, not giving a care for the moment, as someone's rump got in someone else's face and hands or stubs grabbed an ankle, as they looked out from between their legs and saw their new friends upside down. The ensnaring game eventually devolved into a twisted mess on the mat, squirming and roughhousing and shrieking insanely.

"Hey, you guys?"

They looked up to see Samus standing in the doorway.

"Hiya, Sam," greeted Douglas. "What brings you here?"

"If you're finished playing around on the floor, Master Hand put the tier list up," announced Samus.

"Oh, boy!" cried Fox, dropping the spinner and bounding out of the room.

One by one, the Formidable Four picked themselves up, pulled their shoes back on (for those who had any) and filed out after the space commander.

Remembering Mario's words, Luigi tried not to elevate his expectations too much. He tried to imagine how low he'd be ranked. He tried to be ready.

They spilled into the crowd of the other eight Smashers, fighting their way to the front for a better look at the piece of paper tacked onto the bulletin board beside the day's matches. Already, there were whoops of joy, utterances of dismay, shouts of anger, cries of triumph and even some oaths as the fighters glimpsed their positions. Luigi ignored them as he finally reached the tier list. And as soon as he found his picture, he wished he hadn't.

Mario wasn't joking. Luigi, in fact, was ranked low on the tier list. Pretty low. Extremely low. Pitifully low.

The lowest of the low.

He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. Nothing had changed. His position on that tier list hadn't changed an inch. He was still standing there, staring at where they'd put him. Yells of disbelief, celebration, fulmination and condemnation swirled surreally around him. His face had gone as white as a Boo. For about two seconds, his heart stopped beating. This wasn't a sick joke. This wasn't a nightmare. This was real. This was how he was going to be viewed for the rest of the tournament.

His power of speech returned, and with it, his own disbelieved cry:

 _"Are you freaking kidding me?! Last place?!"_

Mario bolted forward at the sound of his brother's exclamation. Everything else was gone from his mind except for the fact that his younger sibling needed him right now.

"Excuse me! Sorry! Coming through!"

Meanwhile, Luigi's mind was going everywhere. He thought he was doing well, well enough to be placed higher than last! Were they doing this on purpose? Was it their way of keeping him down, where they wanted him to be? Every time he struggled up, someone was waiting to push him back down! It wasn't fair! None of it was!

The crushing discovery had caused him to go limp. He had no energy to move; he was on the verge of crumpling to the ground. His mouth opened and closed rapidly like a fish swimming in the sea. It was as if he was trying to say something, anything—anything to make this go away and just be some delusional fantasy. And then a sound came out from between his lips—a broken, keening sound, like a child trying to comprehend why the other kids were laughing at him just because he was different.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. _Mio Dio_ —this isn't happening. No way is this happening," he murmured over and over.

Mario reached the front in time to see Luigi, broken and numb, mumbling listless words, his expression aghast as he stared at the list, no longer seeing it except the fact that they put him last. As far as the red-capped hero was concerned, his efforts to ease the devastation had failed. He felt guilty for not telling him directly, but at least he'd been honest, right? It wasn't like he told a bald-faced lie.

Silently, Mario took his place by Luigi's side. A weight hung; he couldn't make eye contact. But he felt Luigi's eyes boring into him, asking the unspoken questions, demanding an explanation. It didn't take long for the intensity to get to Mario, making him turn and meet his younger bro's gaze.

"I—I wanted to tell you," Mario stated remorsefully. As if _that_ would make it any better. What kind of excuse was that? He _kept_ that important fact from him!

"I know," replied Luigi, his eyes never wavering. He had to give Mario credit for trying to lessen the impact. Unfortunately, the blow was still mighty. He anticipated being low after the talk with Mario, but not dead last. Something told him that Mario had hidden a vital piece from him after the revelation, but for both of their sakes, he hadn't pressed the matter. He should've, though. Now, Luigi would always remember that Mario knew, all this time. While he was in his room jamming to Foo Fighters, Matchbox 20, No Doubt and other bands having their heyday in the 90s; while he was playing Twister with Ness, Falcon and Jiggs, Mario knew. He knew that he was now considered the worst fighter on the roster, and instead of coming right out and saying it, he lied by omission.

Mario bowed his head. He knew Luigi had put two-and-two together. Soothing the pain the only way he could, he raised his head, opened his arms and encircled them round the green-clad hero, drawing him against his body and transferring his warmth and comfort to him.

To his relief, Luigi accepted the embrace, relaxing as his arms moved, in turn, to round his brother's frame. He interlaced his fingers behind Mario's back to keep the hold, his chin resting atop the crown of the elder brother's head. One hand began to thread through Mario's locks, the hug deepening. The reality wasn't so painful anymore. Luigi understood that Mario would be there to help him through this. He didn't think any less of him because of that list.

Still, he technically lied to him, so the next time they were matched together, it wasn't going to be pretty.

"Yoshi?"

The plumbers shifted in their brotherly embrace to see their green dino pet with a concerned look on his face.

"Hi, Yoshi," they said as one.

Yoshi padded over to his "mama", eyes still filled with worry. He'd been placed in the A tier along with Douglas and Fox, with a rank of 5th. Fox was 4th, and Douglas was 3rd. At first, Yoshi was jubilant, as he had every right to be. He, Fox and Falcon high-fived each other and wound up in a hugfest with S tier fighters, Pikachu (1st) and Kirby (2nd). The euphoria dissipated enough for Yoshi to glance again at the tier list, curious as to the positions of his two friends. Luigi's last-place rank immediately jumped at him, and suddenly, the fact that the green dino was ranked fairly high no longer mattered. He just hated the heartbroken look on his "mama's" face. All he wanted was for him to smile and laugh again, as he'd done since the tournament started.

Luigi turned to face Yoshi when the dino nuzzled his shoulder lovingly.

"Yoshi?" the dino asked tentatively.

Ending his hug with Mario, Luigi petted Yoshi reassuringly. "It's okay," he said. "I'm not mad at you."

He glanced at Mario. "Or at you," he went on. Mario wasn't so sure.

"Truth is, I don't know who I'm mad at," summed up Luigi. "Master Hand, Sakurai, the gamers who assembled this, or God—I just don't know."

"Yoshi?"

Luigi smiled sadly at Yoshi. "Hey, when life deals me tomatoes, I make spaghetti sauce. Speaking of which…" He cast a pointed glance toward Mario. "…I'll take a rain check on that spaghetti."

Mario stroked his brother's cheeks, and then rubbed his shoulders. "Listen to me," he said. "I don't care what that paper says, okay? It can say whatever it wants, but in my eyes, you'll always be a strong fighter. Just think about your help in rescuing the Princess, yes?"

"I barely get any acknowledgement, but you're right," said Luigi.

"You're amazing, Luigi," said Mario. "You're smart. You're dependable. You're handsome. You're strong. You're more powerful and courageous than you realize. I pray that one day, you'll discover that hidden spirit."

Luigi blushed. "Thanks, Bro."

They shared one final hug. Then, Luigi kissed Mario's cheek and threaded his way through the crowd to locate the other "C" tiers.

Samus glowered at Douglas as he held her hands in his.

"I mean, we can still be together, right?" he asked.

"Only if you agree not to rub it in," she admonished.

DK stomped away from the tier list, pouting over being ranked 9th and looking for bananas to drown his sorrows.

Ness received an encouraging pep talk from a few Mr. Saturns.

Link angrily slashed at the air with the Master Sword, yelling about how he was ranked eleventh in spite of the numerous times he'd defeated a certain dark king and restored peace to Hyrule.

"Eleventh!" he screamed like a maniac. "Eleventh!"

A Polygon handed him a glass on Lon-Lon Milk, which he drained in a few gulps.

"Thanks," he said. "I needed that."

As Fox and Falcon did a victory dance, hooting and laughing boisterously, Pikachu and Kirby simply congratulated each other on their high rankings and offered free hugs to everyone else.

Samus, DK, Ness and Link found themselves drawn to Luigi as he approached them. They saw tears threatening to spill, yet he steadfastly kept them in. He couldn't afford to break down in front of them. They needed a source of guidance and hope. They needed superglue to hold them together. Though he was just dubbed the absolute worst, he was going to fulfill that role. Mario was right—there was hidden strength in Luigi, and it was starting to come out.

"Hey," Luigi said to them, and they looked into his eyes and saw it, the quiet fortitude keeping him from sinking into the depths of self-pity. "It'll be all right."

The color had returned to his face, a healthy tan accelerated by constant exposure to sunlight. His tears had spilled over, but as they sparkled on his cheeks, his lips remained firm and his jaw squared. His cry was over before it even began. He slipped one hand into Link's and the other into Ness's, prompting the other two to join them in a circle, holding hands.

"We're going to be okay," Luigi assured them, knowing that they wanted to believe it with every ounce of their being. "I promise."

 **Please review!**


	3. Come Together, Come Apart

**Come Together, Come Apart**

 **Face** _ **(n)**_ **: 5: outward appearance; 8: a front, principal, bounding or contacting surface**

 **Value** _ **(n**_ **): 2: the monetary worth of a thing; also, relative worth, utility, or importance; 3: an assigned or computed numerical quantity**

 **-from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6** **th** **ed (2004)**

 **Face value** _ **(n)**_ **: the value printed or depicted on a coin, bank note, postage stamp, etc., especially when less the actual or intrinsic value; the superficial appearance or implication of something**

 **-from Google Search**

It was Master Hand's idea to give his Smasher a two-hour match break after putting up the tier list, but he doubted that two hours would be enough.

He saw it all, read it all, and knew it all. He was the creator of this tournament; therefore, he knew what the participants were thinking and feeling. Especially when it came to tiers.

Master Hand was well-versed in psychology and sociology. Even before Sakurai sent him that thing, he knew it would have many sociological and psychological effects on the fighters. Primarily, some would let it get to their heads and use it as some sort of class system. Higher tiers would look down on the lower tiers, and the lower tiers would feel weak, worthless and pitiful. Psychologically, the high tiers would feel and act like they were better than all of the rest, and the low tiers would feel like peasants. What he observed earlier enforced all of this.

Especially with Luigi.

He was there when the man in green fought his way to the front of the crowd, so much eagerness, excitement and hope shining on his face. He was there when, as soon as he saw his placement, the light went out of his eyes, and he visibly deflated. He was there as he fought back his tears and sought comfort from Mario, Yoshi and the C-tiers. Something had told him to pull him aside and talk to him, but he felt no need to after he noticed Luigi comforting Samus, DK, Ness and Link instead of vice versa.

As predicted, Captain Falcon and Fox were all over the place with their rankings, hamming it up, milking it dry and rubbing it in the faces of other Smashers (except Samus, in Falcon's case, when she calmly asked him to stop). The duo could now be seen strutting the halls of the Smash Mansion like a pair of peacocks, emphasizing how important they were. Master Hand reminded himself to lecture them before the matches started up again.

But Pikachu and Kirby were different. They—were the most gracious of top tiers. Master expected them to be the obnoxious ones, rather than the racer and vulpine. But obnoxious wasn't a word to describe either of those two. They kept their celebrations subtle, giving hugs to the lower tiers to show that they were still their friends. Not so much for Falcon and Fox! Smashers they'd been chummy with in the past (e.g. Luigi) were shamelessly shunned. The C-tiers were a little guarded in interacting with the higher tiers; in fact, Luigi was extremely protective of his fellow C-tiers. Invisible boundaries seemed to be drawn—the tiers now dictated where they Smashers sat, who they were close to and who they trusted. Except for Pikachu, Kirby and Yoshi, proud of their ranks but not letting them define their friendships.

When Master Hand reluctantly resumed matches, he was alarmed upon noticing the increased tension. Higher tiers, especially Fox and Falcon, enjoyed dumping on the lower tiers during a match, even fighting dirty at one point. Master had to penalize the vulpine once and the racer twice before they stopped with the dirty fighting, but they still let loose with sugar-coated barbs and trash-talking. In the interval between matches, the gym, lounge and Training Areas became populated with B and C tiers.

And the audience wasn't even better! As soon as word got out that Luigi was dead last, it was open season for him. He was mocked for being a clone, heckled, booed and hissed at, taunted because of his low ranking and even physically harassed by a few spectators! Master Hand warned them that they would be permanently barred from spectating if their behavior persisted, but it was as if he wasn't there. Luckily, the handful of fans eagerly awaiting Luigi's appearance were there to shower him with support, girding him for the battles ahead.

Then, there was Mario. When he wasn't proving an A tier or a S tier wrong in battle (mostly the A tiers), he was spectating all of Luigi's matches, just like he always had. First row, middle seat had become Mario's signature spot, and seeing him there automatically meant that Luigi was going to kick some butt. As the green-clad plumber gave his opponents a run for their money and tuned out the boos and jeers from the haters, Jumpman jumped up and down in his seat, sometimes leaping to his feet, cheering like he was cheering for the New York Giants, sometimes calling out to his baby bro in Italian. The more Mario cheered, the harder Luigi fought, and the look Master Hand often glimpsed in his eyes said more than this paragraph I'm typing right now. All of that early afternoon, match after match, the Eternal Understudy sweated, bled, gave as good as he got—and shouted. The finality and the heat of a given match got into Luigi's blood and he yelled almost as much as Mario. By the time Master called another respite, Luigi ached from giving and taking hits, and his throat was raw.

In those quiet moments, it all came crashing back down. Coming here with a possibility ahead of him to have that possibility brutally snatched away. Trying to escape coming in second, but having it cling fast to him. And now, Sakurai's little "[bleep] you" to the man in green was the final factor in a macabre equation. And what a macabre equation it was.

The fists which pounded opponents now pounded walls and doors, pounded them hard enough to leave dents. Through it all, Luigi cried softly, his solitude allowing him to finally let go those feelings. He'd give everything to make the booing stop, to make the mocking and the hating stop, to make that stupid list go away. Falcon—a fellow secret fighter—was now turning his nose up at him. And now, Fox had time for the A and the S tiers, but no time for the B and C tiers—especially the worst fighter on the roster! Pikachu, Kirby, Yoshi, Jiggs and Mario were nicer to him. It was just that Luigi had his guard up around them, unsure of whether it was an act for some of them. He felt a greater affinity toward DK, Link and Samus, and they arranged themselves into a tiny "clique", similar to Fox and Falcon's relationship, except that it welcomed everyone and not a select few.

Finally, Luigi calmed down and used the phone in his room to summon his fellow C-tiers.

"What is it, L?" asked Ness.

Luigi beamed. "Anyone up for a game of Twister?"

* * *

The scooper dipped into the tub of ice cream and then emerged, filled with the cool guilty pleasure. Then, the scoop was released into the bowl with a soft _plop_. Scoop, release, _plop_ , repeat.

Twelve generous-size bowls of ice cream laid neatly on a tray. A pair of pink appendages grabbed the bottle of fudge topping and gave it a squeeze. The yummy, gooey goodness piled onto the ice cream in squiggles. Once the ice-creams were doused in topping, on came a dollop or two of Cool Whip, and at last, a cherry.

Kirby's mouth watered as he studied his hand-crafted sundaes, but he knew only one of them was his. However delicious this looked, he had to see this mission through to the end.

Picking up the tray, Kirby puffed out of the kitchen and into the lounge, where the Smashers sat. A light frown graced his round face at the sight greeting him. His friends had all segregated themselves into different tables after looking at a piece of paper. Kirby felt heartbroken by this. He was proud to be top tier, but he didn't want all of his new pals sitting away from each other! Surely, the tier list wasn't supposed to be used as some caste system. It was merely a guide for more competitive players, and nothing else.

Pikachu looked up when Kirby placed the tray onto "their" table. "Pika?" he wondered.

"Poyo," Kirby said with a wink. Delicately, he lifted a sundae from the tray and floated over to where the C tiers sat. Tiring of contorting their bodies on a mat, they were now engaged in a board game, Sorry. Even the ironically titled game seemed to be dissing Luigi, as he was at a grave disadvantage. He didn't seem to mind, smiling, laughing and talking with the other four low tiers.

Kirby got their attention with a soft "Poyo".

Five heads whipped around, Luigi immediately assuming a protective stance, distrustfully eyeing the sundae Kirby proffered.

"Poyo, poyo," said Kirby, undeterred.

Gradually, Luigi's posture relaxed, and he reached out to take the delicious dessert.

Then, Kirby gestured to the table he occupied with Kirby. "Poyo?"

"Sure. Of course I'll sit with you," said Luigi, the last of his suspicions fading away. Why he suspected the Hero of Dreamland in the first place was beyond him. He excused himself and walked with Kirby to the new table, holding his sundae carefully.

Jiggs and Mario looked up from their game of War to see Luigi striding over to Kirby and Pikachu's table. They then put down their cards and watched as Kirby picked up his tray and puffed back over to the C tiers.

"Poyo, poyo, poyo!" he called out to them.

Samus, DK, Ness and Link looked at Kirby, then at the sundaes, then at one another and then back at Kirby. Wariness flickered over their faces before Ness stood up and went to join Luigi.

"Okay!" he chirped as he took a sundae.

Link's face oozed gratitude as Kirby handed him a sundae. He situated himself to Luigi's left.

A lazy grin broke out of Samus's face, and with a roll of her eyes, she rose to her feet, crossed the room to Kirby's table, and sat beside Ness.

DK accepted his treat with contented, hungry ape noises.

The joy and friendship Kirby exuded was contagious. For the first time in hours, animated converse sprung up among the fighters. Mario and Jiggs grinned ear-to-ear as they watched the Star Warrior reunify his new friends.

"Jiggly!" said Jiggs.

"That was an extremely considerate thing to do, Kirby," Mario added softly.

Kirby held the tray out to the B tiers with a cheerful "Poyo, poyo, poy!"

Exchanging proud looks, Jiggs and Mario put their cards away and ventured over to the seats Kirby saved for them. Mario sat beside his brother, and Jiggs sat beside Pikachu.

With an enthusiastic, "Yoshi!", the green dino claimed the last sundae.

And so, there they were, the Super Smash Brothers, joking, laughing and commiserating over ice cream. Kirby was old enough to know how sweet treats could bring a room back together.

Most of it, at least. Two of the Smashers were absent from this get-together. And those two Smashers were…

"YES!"

"Oh, yeah! Woo! Make way, people!"

Hand in hand, Fox and Falcon made their grand entrance. The table occupants fired them annoyed looks, but remained silent.

"Hey, Kirby, my man!" greeted Falcon. "You're not really going to throw a party without us, are you? C'mon, save some ice cream for the winners!"

"That's right! It's time to celebrate!"

Kirby glared at them. "Poyo, poyo!"

"Kirby's right—we're all winners here!" said Link.

"And we're celebrating already," Mario led the charge. "We're celebrating being together!"

"I'm sure Kirby will hook you up if you ask nicely," said Ness.

"Pfft, if you want those sundaes, then you can have them!" eyerolled Falcon. "I see some bad apples in this bunch, and I don't want to hang around with them. How about you, Foxy?"

"Nope, and don't call me Foxy."

"Wanna get some nachos?"

"Sure."

After placing their order at the counter, Falcon swiveled around to face Yoshi. "Yoshi, what are you doing over there?" he asked. "Come hang with us and have some nachos!"

Yoshi shook his head. "Yoshi!"

"Oh, whatever!" huffed Falcon, taking a tortilla chip from his order and popping it into his mouth.

The two A tiers found a table of their own and began loudly crunching on their food. They should've been mindful of Luigi's incredulous eyes on them. Who were they to act like they owned the place? Oh, Luigi had his eye on them since that fateful list came up. Bossing the Polygons around like their own personal assistants, preening for the audience during matches, and now this. The same F-Zero racer and bounty hunter who resembled a cinnamon twist on the Twister mat beside him that morning was now too stuck up to even be at the same table as him. The same anthropomorphic fox holding the game spinner was now looking at him down the length of his nose whenever they passed each other by. _Dio_ , it made Luigi want to puke.

Everyone else ignored the duo, thinking—hoping—that the hype would die away and that everything would be back to normal tomorrow.

Oh, how very wrong they were…

* * *

It still hadn't burned off after a few more matches were fought, and the C tiers were sick of it. Sick of it! Samus had ditched her Varia Suit for a pair of workout capris and a sports bra and was now hogging the gym, DK was downing banana-based sweets, Ness was playing baseball with some Polygons, and Luigi was in his room, sitting at his computer.

On the Smash blog, the tier list was a hot topic. Of course, there were a lot of potshots taken at the low tiers and a few cracks about how useless Luigi was. The plumber blasted air between closed lips a few times, positioned his fingers over the keyboard and began to type.

 _What has happened to the Formidable Four? What has happened to the Smash Family? Twelve fighters, once warm and loving and eager to share with one another, now shattered into fragments like glass. This tier list has divided us; it is slowly turning us into three hostile camps. Two of us are now acting like they own the place—can't you believe it? Well, as you all know by now, I'm the ugly duckling, the runt of the litter, the weakling, so chances are, you're not going to pay attention to what I say, but I'm going to say it anyway. I. Hate. This. Tier. List. That's right, I curse with every breath in my body the nutjob who thought of putting these things into existence, I rue the day they decided that such a thing was necessary for what was supposed to be a friendly get-together. Look at what they've done! Friendships lie in tatters, betrayed without a single tear or hint of regret. The Smash mansion seems smaller now, thanks to overinflated egos and God complexes. Now that everyone thinks I'm nothing, I've lost a critical amount of respect. But they'll see. They'll all see._

 _I apologize for wasting your time and valuable blog space._

Luigi clicked "Send" and immediately felt a heavy weight lift from his heart. It felt so incredibly good and _daring_ to have his fingers fly across his keyboard, translating all of his thoughts into a blog post, pulling no punches and speaking his mind. They thought this list dictated the kind of fighter he was, but he'd show them. Samus would show them. DK, Ness and Link would show them. He wasn't about to let himself and his fellow C tiers fall victims to stigmatism, despair and self-loathing. Under his watch, the Fierce Five was going to show Nintendo what C tiers could do!

This was turning into a freaking good day.


	4. At the Margins

**At the Margins**

 **Margin (n): 1: the part of a page outside the main body of printed or written matter; 2: edge**

 **Marginal (adj.): 4: excluded from or existing outside the mainstream of society or a group**

 **Marginalize (vb.): to relegate to an unimportant position within a society or group**

 **-The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6** **th** **ed. (2004)**

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Ridley just found out about the tiers. Now, my phone is off the hook with prank calls from him. The last thing I need is my sworn enemy mocking me for being 8_ _th_ _place. Compounded with the prejudice I've faced for being a woman and a bounty hunter, along with the snickering audience and the "better-than-you" treatment shown to me by some of the higher tiers (you know who you are). Seeing them so full of it makes me want to fire a fully-loaded Charge Shot into their midst, to obliterate them like the deadly Space Pirates I've battled in the past. But luckily, I'm not riding this roller coaster alone. I've found confiding buddies in DK, Ness, Link and Luigi. Speaking of Luigi, he's become our unofficial "voice", our spine, our superstructure keeping us from falling apart. So, anyone who wants to_ [bleep] _with us has to go through him._

 _I'm hitting the Training Area now; this energy and aggression is driving me mad!_

 _Samus A._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _THANK YOU LUIGI, YOU ARE THE BEST! I SHOWER YOU WITH COCONUT CREAM PIES!_

 _DK_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Captain Falcon and Fox used to enjoy playing baseball with me. Not anymore. They say that it's "for little babies", just like playing Twister "is for casuals". I've never heard such disrespectful comments in my life! Why, oh why, does this tier list corrupt them so?_

 _I'm sitting in my room, playing with my yo-yo, trying not to cry, thinking about the way we were. Smash used to be one, big, happy family—now, we're arranged like a totem pole. The likes of Fox and Falcon behave like socialites who are oh-so-special and oh-so-important above the rest of us. And us C tiers? We're treated like low-class peasants, like expendables, like underlings of the lowest order, like useless, easily replaced and erased individuals. We're kindergarteners and first graders, and they're the big sixth graders who love tormenting us—or so they think._

 _Thank God for Luigi. His words ring in my head as I write these words. He may be last, but he's no underling! And he's right—we are going to show everyone what C tiers are made of and set this tournament on fire! The things I'm going to do to those snobbish pushovers—_

 _I'll get back to you later. Luigi's coming to visit!_

 _Ness_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _You know that feeling when you accidentally disturb a flock of Cuccos, and they won't stop assailing you? Well, that's how things are like right now for me._

 _Eleventh—how could they have the nerve? Eleventh! I am the Hero of Time. I am the bearer of the Triforce of Courage. I serve and protect Hyrule with my life. What have I done? What have I done to be so grossly disregarded? Why do these people keep harassing me like a flock of Cuccos? I'm being pecked at from all directions. From one direction comes two fighters in particular who think they're VIPs now (I won't name names, but they know who they are) and seek to remind us of our place, so to speak. From another are the gamers, the tournament regulars who drone on and on about how lousy I am. And then, I've got the audience breathing down my neck, waiting to see me fail, fall, die trying. Just think of the libel and slander they're sending to Hyrule, to my people! In spite of everything I've done, in spite of all of my accomplishments, they thumb their noses at my fighting abilities. Just wait until I've sharpened my Master Sword, polished my Boomerang and restock my Bombs. I'll have them eating their words in no time!_

 _I'll go play my ocarina now._

 _Link_

 _P.S. Luigi told me that he's swinging by later. I'm going to hold him to that._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _I've cried my last tears. I've pulled myself out of the rut of what-if and what-could've-been. I've stopped stewing over that piece of paper; I've decided that it's not going to rule my life. Instead, I've declared all-out total war on it. It's placed a value stamp on me, but I'm going to fight it. I'm going to fight it with my bare hands. I'm going to fight it with words. I'm going to fight it with thoughts and ideas and energy and fire. I'm going to roll up my sleeves and get in the mud, because if they want to drag me through filth, I'll take them right along with me. I feel a wind beginning to blow inside of me, a full-force gale. Let me tell you, this gale within me is going to blow down these negative perceptions of me with the relentlessness of a hurricane. I_ am _a hurricane. A hurricane steadily increasing in deadly power. Now I can hardly sit still. I cannot wait for the next match. I cannot wait for my next opponent. I hope it's Falcon or Fox, two new friends of mine who screwed me over on a dime. They want to believe they're the cream of the crop, but I'll knock them down a few pegs, just you wait. I am a category 5 superstorm of a hurricane, and my target is locked on those two._

 _They'd better say their prayers._

 _Luigi_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Oh, God, I feel so happy right now! So free! I haven't felt so lightweight since I defeated Ridley for the first time and reached closure over losing my parents. What happened? Well, let me tell you. Luigi came into my room earlier, armed with a home-cooked meal. I knew he was planning something, because it was nothing but comfort food. I'm talking about a four-course meal._ Antipasti _, the pasta dish, the second dish and finally the dessert. Luigi did an excellent job of cheering me up. I'm now immune to Ridley's verbal jabs. And full._

 _God bless you, Luigi!_

 _Samus A._

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Luigi's the total package! Nuff said!_

 _DK_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Luigi broke out Chutes and Ladders for us to play. Chutes and Ladders! I_ love _that game! After playing a few rounds of that, I was less angry. I felt ready to put my cards on the table, and I did just that. I told him about the temptations in my head, the feeling of being a helpless little kid, the connotations dropped onto my shoulders. He said that he's struggled with similar thoughts and temptations, but now he's wrangled them. I didn't even have to ask him for advice—he dispensed it for free. He's planning a sleepover tonight, and Samus, DK and Link already decided to come. I'll come, too._

 _Once I laid everything bare, the two of us went outside and played basketball. Truly, I've never asked for a better buddy than Luigi._

 _Ness_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _Sorry I was in such a funk earlier. But never again, never again! Luigi and I understand each other. We're the Green Team, for crying out loud—the freaking Green Team! While I was playing my ocarina, Luigi walked in and listened. After I was done playing tunes, we chatted each other up for a while. I don't know why, but the fact that he wears green, like me, makes him a lighthouse, guiding the small boat of my mind back home. I'm still Hyrule's protector; still the bearer of the Triforce of Courage. I still ride proudly astride Epona, demonstrate my swordsmanship with my Master Sword, and I'm still masterful at projectile warfare. Navi remains to give me guidance. I've received fan letters from gamers as well as the people of Hyrule. But by far, the one to still the storm within my heart is Luigi, my partner in green. We're unbreakable, Luigi and I. And we never have and never will run from a fight._

 _I thank you, Luigi, with all of my heart._

 _Link_

* * *

 _Dear Diary,_

 _My four newest compadres are here with me now—Samus, DK, Ness and Link. We have come together as one force, as one voice, five fires merging into a wild inferno. From now on, none of us will travel alone, and none of us will jump ship. Whatever happens, we'll brave it together. We are our last, our best, our only line of defense. We are the light returning to the darkness. We are the Fierce Five._

 _Luigi_

* * *

 **Do you hear the people sing, singing the song of angry men?**

 **It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again!**

 **When the beating of your heart matches the beating of the drums,**

 **There's a new hope about to start when tomorrow comes!**

 **-"Song of Angry Men",** _ **Les Miserables**_

* * *

 **To my guest reviewers:**

 **Jack: Thank you so much! Some of my origins come from the Nintendo canon. The bit about the plumbing business comes from the _Super Mario Bros. Super Show_ (RIP Lou Albano and Danny Wells). This chapter really shows Luigi's strength, so I hope it doesn't disappoint.**

 **Guest04: Have you heard of the musical group Tears for Fears? They had some pretty good stuff back in the 80s. Furthermore, I'm not a tier fanatic, all right? I'm just interested on the psychology and sociology of the tier list.**

 **Monkey999Boy: I can never imagine Kirby being a braggart. He's always friendly, trusting and bubbly (possibly a reason why he got played so easily by Magolor and Marx, but that's another story). Though Kirby is old enough to understand the positive connotations of being first, he knows that it doesn't entitle him to special privileges. And what better way to get people together than ice cream? Kirby _does_ like food. As for Luigi's post, I think it's going to get some positive attention, likely by "the fans eagerly awaiting his appearance". Thank you for reading.**

* * *

 **Please review, and stay tuned.**


	5. Coiled Cobra

**Coiled Cobra**

 **Sir Meta Knight** replied to your comment: _You are correct, Luigi, and I admire your courage to come forward and speak your mind. It brings a great degree of pride to be first, but that doesn't make someone better than anyone else. It does not make the friendships you've established more or less valuable. You are still the same people who came together in April. I also understand your frustration and ambivalence toward the tier list. One should not judge another based on what someone or something else tells them, but the document in question has made some of your fellow Smashers do just that. I have seen the tier list, and though I am proud that my pupil is among those at the top, I hope he does not let it get to him._

 **Isai** liked your comment.

 **Isai** replied to your comment: _You tell them, bud! They have no right to dump on you just because of a piece of paper! I've attended most of your matches, and let me tell you, you've rocked the house. You are by far my favorite Smash fighter, and I look forward to maining you and seeing more of you in action. God bless, and take care, L._

Luigi smiled at the hits and positive comments his post had received. Finally, he was making some waves! He had already followed Meta's blog and decided to wait a while before following Isai's. Maybe he'd look harder at the audience before a match began, in order to identify his supporters.

However, he wondered why the bearer of Galaxia didn't offer his name up for consideration in this tournament. He was a fearsome knight, the only viable match for Kirby in battle. Maybe he'd ask him later.

"L? Five minutes!" called a Polygon who'd poked its head into Luigi's room.

"Okay, thanks," said Luigi, signing off the computer. He put on some deodorant and followed the Polygon to the designated stage.

The front row was already occupied, erupting in a massive cheer when Luigi arrived. The man in green lit up like a glowstick the minute he saw his big bro, and he waved enthusiastically to him. To Mario's left and right were Link and Ness, respectively. Luigi also saw Samus, DK, Kirby, Pikachu and Jiggs, smiling and blowing him kisses. Rounding out the front row population were a few old New York buddies, Stanley, Pauline—and Meta Knight and Isai! Isai was in full cosplayer gear, holding up a sign which proclaimed, LUIGI #1! The green-clad plumber blushed, the sudden rush of affection bringing tears to his eyes. Quickly, he brushed them away and psyched himself up. _I can do this. I can do this. I can do this!_

And with the encouraging crowd pepping him up, he did.

As he was being rewarded the victor's spoils, Luigi broke into a silly shuffle dance, finishing with a wave to his supportive audience.

* * *

Shortly after Luigi's match, Samus found herself back in the gym, astride the stationary bicycle, pedaling for all she was worth. Her headphones were plugged into her portable CD player, snugly tucked into the pocket of her gym shorts. Eyes closed, breath coming out in noisy bursts, she let everything else fall away. Not just the list but also Falcon's smarminess. He was a handsome guy, and she couldn't get him out of her mind, but if he didn't come to his senses soon, then they would be over before they really began!

Outside, Master Hand chatted with the Polygon in charge of the facility.

"She's been in there for most of her free time," said the Polygon. "If she's not on some cardio machine, then she's swinging at the punching bag."

"I suppose she's taking it well," said Master.

"Better than most," shrugged the Polygon.

Quietly, the glove entered the gym and observed Samus in her imagined bike race, pretending she was biking across her native climate. Without her armor, the bounty hunter looked a bit—petite. Master was aware of the Polygon casting lingering gazes at her muscular, 5'8" frame, her sloping, tight tummy, strands of her blond hair working their way free of her ponytail and dangling before her face, fanning in and out as she breathed, the sweat giving sparkly hues to her skin. She smiled, eyes still closed, as she sunk further and further into her workout.

"Go take your break," Master ordered the Polygon. "I'll watch the facility in the meantime."

The Polygon nodded, sneaked one last look at Samus, and then left. That was when Master noticed that the Polygon had Falcon's build.

Master slid into the chair the Polygon had vacated, watching the gym, watching for entries and exits and watching Samus lunging into her cardio. The sight of her sweat-bathed form and the sound of her aggressive, open-mouthed exhales reminded the glove why he'd come here. Faithfully, he waited forty-five minutes before Samus slowed her legs, powered off the machine and dismounted, taking a big swig of ICE Sparkling water and draping a gym towel over her shoulders.

"You've been here this whole time?" she asked without even looking at Master.

"Yes. The Polygon's on a break."

"Hmm. Sure."

"So, how are you, Sam?"

"Peachy. Why?"

"I couldn't help but notice how you've hogged the gym since—you know."

"And your point?"

"You've seemed a little upset."

"I was, believe me," sighed Samus. "Then, I had Ridley salting the wound. But I feel better now."

"I'm happy for that," said Master, "Now, I get that 8th place isn't all that great, but you're still the Intergalactic Space Warrior. You're the woman who took on Mother Brain and won. Don't think that because of this list, you're no longer a good bounty hunter. I had this talk with DK, Ness and Link, too."

"Well, you don't need to have the talk with L," crowed Samus. "He's already over it. He's the reason why I feel better."

"Yeah, I'm noticing you five interacting more," said Master. "That's well. But the others are still your friends."

"Tell that to Fox and Mr. Big Stuff Falcon," snorted Samus.

"I'll take them aside on this matter soon," promised Master.

"Okay," said Samus. "Thanks for stopping by."

Master watched as she strode out of the gym.

* * *

Happy, upbeat music played inside the ice-cream parlor as Pikachu and Kirby padded in. Not sauntered, but entered. Pikachu's paw was entwined with Kirby's stump as they approached the counter.

"What can I get you?" asked the friendly Polygon manning the cash register.

The duo ordered a banana split. Together, they carried it to a seat by the window, where they proceeded to scoop up small spoonfuls and level them into each other's mouths.

It was more than a banana split. It was a simple self-reward over being ranked so high, a chance for them to celebrate their achievement together without drawing any attention. For Kirby and Pikachu, it was like a first date. They'd fallen in love from the moment the pink fluffball had assuaged Pikachu's separation anxiety and home sickness. Flirtily feeding each other a banana split, the duo felt closer than ever. All that was missing was a singer serenading them with a love ballad.

Kirby's face (body?) was smeared with whipped cream and fudge, while Pikachu had strawberry ice-cream plastered all over his lips. The S tiers giggled at the mess they were making and then proceeded to lick away. Once they were licked clean, they proceeded to get messy and sticky again as the Polygon amusedly looked on.

Ah, young love.

"Hello, you two."

Pikachu and Kirby turned at the sound of Master's voice. He floated at the parlor's entrance, smiling wryly.

"I must say, you make an adorable couple," Master went on.

"Pika"-ing and "poyo"-ing nearly drowned him out.

"Just friends, you say? Well, judging by the fun you're having with that ice cream, your friendship could turn into—something more."

"Poyo, poyo, poyo, poy, poyoyo, po-poyo, poyo," admitted Kirby.

"Oh, so you're celebrating about the tier list?" asked Master.

"Poyo," nodded Kirby.

"It's good to be happy, and I admit, it's something to celebrate. Just—don't get too carried away, all right? You can't fight if you're stuffed to the gills."

"Pika, pika, pika-pi," Pikachu piped up.

"Oh, definitely. I'm certain that Ash would be extremely proud to hear this," said Master, referring to the electric mouse's young trainer. Turning to Kirby, he added, "The citizens of Dreamland, especially Sir Meta Knight, would be extremely proud of their little hero."

"Pika," said Pikachu.

"Your fellow Pokémon would also be happy for you," Master said to him, "and Mist would definitely be jumping for joy. Is she still with Ash?"

Pikachu nodded.

"It's clear that those in your home world will have greater reason to regale you," said Master, "but remember, your placement on the tier list does not mean special privileges. You still have to follow the rules."

"Pika."

"Poyo."

"Besides, it doesn't necessarily mean that you're better than all the rest. You just have better match-ups on the battlefield."

"Poyo, poyo, poyo, poyo, po, poy, po-poyo, poyoyo," Kirby said softly.

"Good going, Kirby. Not letting your rankings sour your friendships is a wise move," said Master, "but I must warn you, some Smashers will."

"Pika?" queried Pikachu.

"Because—that's just the way they are."

Kirby bit his lip. "Poyo, poyo."

"Wait—what about Luigi?"

"Poyo, poyo, poyo, poyo, po-poyo," Kirby sighed sadly.

"It's natural to be upset over something. It leaves—a bitter taste in the mouth. But Luigi's a strong man. He's seeing the other C tiers through and making his voice heard on our blog. Actually, he's quite good on the battlefield with his powerful attacks. It's his floatiness, high short hop and awkwardness which hinders him. All about the physics."

"Pika, pika, pika."

"Poyo!" chirped Kirby.

Master smiled. "Good thinking! Luigi can use his poor traction to his advantage. Maybe if we do another tournament, I'll teach the fighters a thing I like to call 'wavedashing'. Like I said, being last on the tier list doesn't necessarily make him bad."

Kirby and Pikachu animatedly discussed the matter among themselves over their banana split.

"Perhaps you'd like to save some of that for him?" offered Master. "To cheer him up?"

"YES!"

The moment was broken as Falcon and Fox pompously sauntered into the parlor.

"Douglas, you scared me!" cried Master. "What brings you two here?"

"Guess what, MH—we're with the champions!" announced Falcon, "and we wanna celebrate with a nice sundae on the house!"

"Sorry, you two, but you'll have to pay up like everyone else."

Fox and Falcon protested loudly.

"Can we at least get a discount?" Falcon ventured to ask.

Kirby broke in with a firm "Poyo!"

"Heavy hangs the head that last night wore the crown," admonished the glove with a wag of his finger.

"Whatever!" snapped Falcon. "Can we get something sweet, please?"

"Only if you can pay for it."

The Polygon managed to convince Falcon and Fox to pay the full cost for a premium sundae each. Kirby and Pikachu cast them disapproving looks as they took their seats and dug into their treats with over-the-top bragging.

"I'd better go see about the others," Master said to them. "Let me know if you need anything. Fox, Falcon—try to behave."

The duo grunted.

Master was about to make his exit when he heard this:

"Hey, Fox, maybe later we can go get that last-place loser; see how low he is," proposed Douglas.

"Ah. I'm in."

Kirby and Pikachu exchanged alarmed glances. They had to warn Luigi!

"I didn't hear that," murmured Master Hand, "and I strongly suggest that I don't hear it again."

He floated back to his office, leaving the four to their own affairs. After planning out the day's final wave of matches, he perused the security monitors for a while, eventually drifting off to sleep—

* * *

"Headed somewhere?"

The Polygon in the Training Area swiveled round. "I'm just taking a bathroom break."

Luigi nodded. "I'll be waiting when you get back."

As the form went off to attend to its business, Luigi stood, too wired to sit. It had happened again. He'd received several sardonic responses to his post, and some bloggers had exercised no restraint in lambasting him. Passing the ice-cream parlor, he'd heard Douglas and Fox, bragging up a storm. What was with those two? Why couldn't they be like Pikachu and Kirby, still friendly and welcoming and open? No worries, though—he'd bring their distorted worldview crashing down on them!

Hardly two minutes later had the Polygon reemerged. "I'm back."

Luigi said nothing as he walked up to the Polygon. As he drew closer, he realized that this Polygon looked similar to a certain uppity racer. Taking his time, Luigi looked his training partner up and down, thoroughly inspecting the Polygon as a child would inspect a yummy dessert before eating it. He saw fear registering on the Polygon's face and responded by closing off the remaining space between them. Excitement brewed within him as he touched his bulbous nose to the Polygon's. His mouth curved upwards into a smile the Polygon hoped never to see again. Face darkening, Luigi circled the Polygon like a band of bandits circling a wagon, with the Polygon trying to follow the plumber's stare. Blue eyes glided over the etchings of the Polygon's abs, imagining that they were Falcon's abs, rippling beneath that racer costume. He started breathing erratically, licking his lips as he allowed himself to picture his fists meeting that ripped torso, furious reds, ugly greenish-browns and purples blooming all over his marvelous, handsome physique. His stomach puffing in and out as he gasped for breath—oh, Luigi would make sure that it hurt to breathe. Then, he fantasized blood slowly drooling from wounds on Falcon's ab-tastic frame and his charming, square face. Looking into the smarmy Captain's masked eyes and seeing pain and fear—and now he could see him crumpled on the floor, remorseful and ashamed over trashing him so, _quivering_ —and being the nice person he was, Luigi would be merciful. But the Captain would learn—as would Fox.

The Polygon barely saw the fist coming.

Luigi yelled, a passionate sound, as he sent another fist flying into the Polygon. He rained blow after blow on his training partner. Said training partner was caught off guard, not expecting such an offensive from the man in green. Its body was sturdy, and it tried to return some of the attacks dealt to it. But Luigi had the jump on him, setting ravenously on the stomach area until it hurt to stand straight and then whaling away at the face, continuing to yell and yell and yell, his movements becoming more animated, and the more he trained, the more wired he grew.

The Polygon had no room to advance. He could only scuttle backward, Luigi's assault eventually forcing the being into a corner of the room. Now, all he could do was hold his ground as the plumber continued to attack from everywhere, hollering and sweating and pretending it was "Show Me Your Moves" Falcon or some other higher tier sneering down at him. Good thing Luigi had a good imagination—it was hard to see injuries on the Polygon's purple body. The training session went on for what seemed like hours but was actually three-and-a-half.

"Excuse me, sir. Would you like me to relieve you?"

The action halted. Mario had entered the Training Area, scrutinizing the scene before him.

"Thank Heaven you've come," sighed the Polygon. "He's all yours!" And with that, it limped away.

Mario waited as Luigi calmed himself down. "Nice to see you, Bro."

"Nice to see you, too."

Then, Mario strode up to his baby bro because he looked like he needed him, and without a word, he hugged him.

"I bet I can withstand your attacks more than that Polygon," said Mario.

"I bet I can topple you right here, right now," Luigi shot back. "Best of seven?"

"You're on."

A pulse-racing brotherly battle ensued in the Training Area, Luigi reminding Mario about his lie by omission earlier, and Mario seeing the key similarities to and differences from his brother. Nobody else dared enter that Training Area as the Mario Bros relentlessly comboed and bodied each other, sweating out everything that had happened so far. Luigi's excitement and anticipation sprouted as the hours sparring with Mario passed. He was a cobra, coiled and hissing, ready to strike and sink its teeth into an unsuspecting intruder. He was a Bob-omb, fuse lit, seconds from blowing. Many metaphors could be used to compare to him, all of them volatile. This man in green hoped that everyone was watching—and that the makers of that stupid list were praying!

 **After all you put me through,  
You think I'd despise you,  
But in the end I wanna thank you,  
'Cause you've made me that much stronger.**

 **Well I, I thought I knew you, thinkin' that you were true**  
 **Guess I, I couldn't trust called your bluff time is up**  
 **'Cause I've had enough!**  
 **You were there by my side, always down for the ride**  
 **But your joy ride just came down in flames 'cause your greed sold me out in shame!**

 **After all of the stealing and cheating you probably think that I hold resentment for you**  
 **But uh uh, oh no, you're wrong**  
 **'Cause if it wasn't for all that you tried to do, I wouldn't know**  
 **Just how capable I am to pull through!**  
 **So I wanna say thank you**  
 **'Cause it**

 _ **[Chorus:]**_

 **Makes me that much stronger  
Makes me work a little bit harder  
It makes me that much wiser  
So thanks for making me a fighter!  
Made me learn a little bit faster  
Made my skin a little bit thicker  
Makes me that much smarter  
So thanks for making me a fighter!**

 **Never saw it coming, all of your backstabbing**  
 **Just so you could cash in on a good thing before I'd realize your game**  
 **I heard you're going round playing the victim now**  
 **But don't even begin feeling I'm the one to blame!**  
 **'Cause you dug your own grave**  
 **After all of the fights and the lies 'cause you're wanting to haunt me**  
 **But that won't work anymore, no more,**  
 **It's over**  
 **'Cause if it wasn't for all of your torture**  
 **I wouldn't know how to be this way now and never back down!**  
 **So I wanna say thank you**  
 **'Cause it**

 _ **[Chorus]**_

 **How could this man I thought I knew**  
 **Turn out to be unjust so cruel?**  
 **Could only see the good in you**  
 **Pretended not to see the truth**  
 **You tried to hide your lies, disguise yourself**  
 **Through living in denial**  
 **But in the end you'll see**  
 **YOU-WON'T-STOP-ME!**

 **I am a fighter and I**  
 **I ain't gonna stop!**  
 **There is no turning back**  
 **I've had enough!**

 _ **[Chorus]**_

 **You thought I would forget**  
 **But I remembered**  
 **'Cause I remembered**  
 **I remembered**  
 **You thought I would forget**  
 **I remembered**  
 **'Cause I remembered**  
 **I remembered**

 _ **[Chorus]**_

 **-Christina Aguilera, "Fighter"**

 **Please review!**


	6. Money Power Glory

**Money Power Glory**

 **Ego (** _ **n**_ **): 1: the self as distinguished from others**

 **Egoism (** _ **n**_ **): 2: excessive concern for oneself with or without exaggerated feelings of self-importance**

 **Egotism (** _ **n**_ **): the practice of talking about oneself too much; an exaggerated sense of self-importance**

 **-from the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6** **th** **ed. (2004)**

Luigi was a good clubber and an expert party guy. He was responsible, often a designated driver, or designated a driver when the lure of liquor was too strong for him. He watched his drinks to make sure he didn't become totally smashed, but if he did, he'd always make sure he wouldn't find himself passed out in an unknown, deserted alley. Even if his days were bad, he'd never rely primarily on alcohol to make them better. He'd have pasta, pizza or favorite activities to do that.

A Poppin' Purple Tanqueray sat in front of him in a funny-shaped glass. The first time he had a Poppin' Purple Tanqueray was in this very lounge, to ease the first-day jitters. One sip, and he fell in love. Equal parts sweet and tangy, lemony and melon-y, with the right amount of kick. The Polygon bartender had caught on quickly, so whenever Luigi walked into the lounge, it made sure a glass of Poppin' Purple Tanqueray was waiting for him. Luigi tipped that Polygon generously.

Luigi took another sip of Poppin' Purple Tanqueray and smiled. Differences seemed to have been abandoned as the Smashers sought some R&R together. All except (surprise!) Fox and Falcon, who were holed up in the latter's room, blasting rock and rap tunes at max volume and getting plugged to the gills. Luigi had happened upon their room, wishing to speak to them, but he was so disgusted with what he heard that he abandoned the venture. So, he took refuge in his favorite lounge, with his new favorite drink, savoring the friendly atmosphere.

Upper tiers and lower tiers mixed and mingled. Luigi saw Yoshi join Kirby and Pikachu for a few rounds of darts. Mario, DK and a gaggle of Polygons played charades. Ness was playing some card game with Samus. Jiggs swayed to the music while Link busted a move. The dance floor was already occupied with various Polygons.

One by one, each Smasher in the lounge abandoned their activities, the music calling to them like the Pied Piper luring all of the children away. One by one, they joined the Polygons on the dance floor. Luigi's eyes were glued to the dancing bodies, and he felt the music and the drink inside of him. He was wound so tight and needed release. And so he picked up his drink and made his way to the floor.

And then he was in the middle of the crowd, dancing. 80s electronic disco, 80s and 90s dance, hip-hop and pop. Techno, synth, party music. Luigi worked up a sweat to these sweet beats. Unfortunately, he wasn't as careful with his drink as he would've liked, and it sloshed over the glass and all over him, his tongue licking it off. The others began to take notice of his limber, shimmying body and sending their own energy to him. Luigi saw that he had their attention and really started busting loose, breaking down his body as the songs melted into each other. The Polygons tried to copy his steamy little shimmy and did sloppy jobs of doing so. Back in his home world, Luigi was a very good dancer, one thing he could best Mario at. The Toads would be screaming over him, just like the Smashers were screaming over him, and fawning and further stimulating him with their cries. Oh, _how_ he danced! His body let out the inhibitions and frustrations he'd carried with him all day. Smash had become a competitive world, but here, things were more relaxed. He put his lips to his glass and sipped down some more of that precious nectar. And then he stopped thinking about everything and danced some more.

 **This is the rhythm of the night  
The night, oh yeah  
The rhythm of the night  
This is the rhythm of my life  
My life, oh yeah  
The rhythm of my life**

 **You could put some joy upon my face  
Oh, sunshine in an empty place  
Take me to turn to, and babe I'll make you stay**

 **Oh, I can ease you of your pain  
Feel you give me love again  
Round and round we go, each time I hear you say**

 **This is the rhythm of the night  
The night, oh yeah  
The rhythm of the night  
This is the rhythm of my life  
My life, oh yeah  
The rhythm of my life**

 **Won't you teach me how to love and learn  
There'll be nothing left for me to yearn  
Think of me and burn, and let me hold your hand**

 **I don't wanna face the world in tears  
Please think again, I'm on my knees  
Sing that song to me, no reason to repent  
I know you wanna say it**

When he could no longer ignore his parched throat, he danced his way back to his seat, where the bartender saw him, all sweaty and winded, and immediately mixed a refill of his drink. Luigi thanked him and settled down to catch his breath, beginning to suck down his beverage. The beginnings of tipsiness were there, the tingle, the peculiar wildness, and Luigi welcomed it. Back he skipped to the dance floor, resuming his shimmying dance and then beginning to undulate and wind his hips. Everyone screamed in admiration. He snaked his free hand through his hair and down himself, allowing himself more freedom than he would back home. The slow, suggestive grind. Rocking, bumping and swaying through a riff. He put his hands on the waist of the Polygon dancing against him and sliding them up its body. Another Polygon came up from behind and sandwiched him between the two, three bodies in motion. Gently, Luigi would tip some of his beverage into the mouths of his dance partners, and they'd offer him sips of their margaritas. Luigi was really loosening up now, and he was having a lot of fun.

Then, there was a No Doubt song with a beat which Luigi claimed as his, so the other dancers stepped back and let him have the floor. Luigi really loved No Doubt and their music:

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Girls say, boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Hey baby, baby**

 **I'm the kinda girl that hangs with the guys  
Like a fly on the wall with my secret eyes  
Takin' it in, try to be feminine  
With my makeup bag watchin' all the sin**

 **Misfit, I sit  
Lit up, wicked  
Everybody else surrounded by the girls  
With the tank tops and the flirty ways**

 **I'm just sippin' on chamomile  
Watching boys and girls and their sex appeal  
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom  
And went to my high school**

 **All the boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Girls say, girls say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Hey baby, baby**

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Boys say, boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
All the boys get the girls in the back**

 **I'm the one they feed upon  
Give a bit, a star is born  
And if you're hot enough, you'll get the pass  
So you can tell your friends how you made it back**

 **No matter what they say I'm still the same  
Somehow everybody knows my name  
And all the girls wanna get with the boys  
And the boys really like it**

 **All the boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Girls say, girls say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Hey baby, baby**

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Boys say, boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
All the boys get the girls in the back**

 **Check it out, it's Bounty Killer and No Doubt**

 **Jump on the stage makes me goin' crazy  
Afterwards myself and one of them, gorgeous ladies  
There is no need to be actin' shady  
C'mon baby, hey, hey baby**

 **Jump on the stage makes me goin' crazy  
Afterwards myself and one of them, gorgeous ladies  
There is no need to be actin' shady  
C'mon baby, hey, hey baby**

 **Way you rock your hips you know that it amaze me  
Got me off the hook and nothing else don't phase me  
Can you be my one and only sunshine, lady  
If no, no maybe, hey baby**

 **I'm just sippin' on chamomile  
Watching boys and girls and their sex appeal  
With a stranger in my face who says he knows my mom  
And went to my high school  
(That's right)**

 **All the boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Girls say, girls say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Hey, baby, baby**

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Boys say, boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
(Can you be my one and only sunshine, lady)**

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Girls say, girls say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
(Way you rock your hips you know that it amaze me)**

 **Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
Boys say, boys say  
Hey baby, hey baby, hey  
All the boys get the girls in the back**

After that came a few more songs Luigi didn't quite catch the names to except for the one about pumping up the jam. And he just let everything that happened today just trickle out and away, because through dance, he could really express himself. He lit up that floor until his glass was empty, and he didn't even notice that until the songs slowed down a bit. By then, Luigi was in need of recharging.

"You feeling alright, man?" asked the Polygon, armed with another refill.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks," smiled Luigi, flipping the bartender some G. He settled back and let his pulse return to normal as he nursed his drink.

"You can always count on me, okay?" said the Polygon.

"Okay."

"Woo! That green moustache was burning the floor!" another Polygon cried.

"He has a name, you know," Mario told him, rolling his eyes.

The Polygon just ignored him, gushing about Luigi's fancy footwork.

 _Things are looking up right now_ , Luigi thought to himself. _We'll fight our last matches, eat dinner and go to bed. Tomorrow, we'll go back to our normal routine_.

The man in green took another swallow. He'd end this day in peace.

But just as he made that resolution, the peace was shattered.

"Hey! Hey, hey!" boomed a familiar voice.

So drunk that they had to support each other, Falcon and Fox had crashed the party. The dancing stopped. The music stopped. Everything stopped.

"Oh, my God. I don't believe it," murmured a Polygon.

"Can I help you guys?" asked Mario, taking charge of the situation.

"Where is he?" slurred Douglas. "The last-place loser? You're the bottom of the food chain, buddy!"

Luigi sat rigidly, barely breathing.

"Somebody here had better explain the pecking order to him, because it's not fun-and-games anymore!" hiccupped Fox.

 _Yeah, thanks to you_ , thought Luigi.

"Are you guys drunk?" asked Mario.

"What? We're not allowed to indulge in guilty pleasures?" huffed Fox.

"I never said that!" Mario retorted.

"Guys! The matches aren't over yet!" Jiggs admonished. "You can't fight like this! Puff!"

"Shall I get the bouncers?" asked the bartender.

"No, no," said Mario. "Everything's under control."

"The two of you had better have a good explanation to Master Hand for this," said Samus. "Douglas, before you even start, drinking and flirting do not mix."

Luigi stared hard at the reflections of Fox and Falcon in his glass as a finger leisurely circled the rim.

"C'mon, you n—b! You can't hide from us!" challenged Falcon. "Let's go! Let's see how low you are!"

In a smoothly executed motion, Luigi drained the last of his glass. Setting it down, he turned to face to two interlopers. They saw that his eyes were still clear, and he wasn't swaying or wavering, either. But the way he was looking at them, though—it was a look which would send even the almighty Koopa running for the hills.

Luigi slid off his chair and onto his feet to soft applause from the Polygons, Samus, Link, DK and Ness. Pikachu and Kirby watched with greedy eyes. Jiggs's and Yoshi's eyes darted from the good Captain to the plumber. And Mario warily gazed upon the tense scene.

"Luigi…" he breathed.

Those bright eyes flicked to him, practically begging Mario to try and stop him. Steadily, he moved toward the drunk A tiers, casually rolling up one sleeve and then the other. People tended to call him a string bean, but his limbs had some meat to them; all they had to do was look closely enough, and they'd see. Muscles, tendons and nerves flexed, contracted and stretched as Luigi made tight and hard fists and raised them up to his face, his singular, acidic stare boring into Falcon and Fox.

As the sounds of an Irish folk song began to fill the air, Falcon yelled out, "Yes! Time to settle this like men—if you're even capable of doing _that_!"

Fox talked smack, but he apparently was in no mood for a fight. He left that task to Captain Falcon.

Straight at Luigi the muscular racer lunged, and was met halfway with well calculated and coordinated attacks. The man in green darted right in and lit into the good Captain's ripped upper body. Falcon had charged in blindly and was now paying for it, the alcohol making his movements sluggish and clumsy. Luigi, on the other hand, was still lightning on his feet and had his opponent figured out like a Rubik's Cube. He could easily dodge and parry wild, badly aimed blows. Who could've known that he'd consumed almost as much spirits as Douglas? It was hard to tell as Luigi cleverly threw Falcon off-balance and then used him as a punching bag, bludgeoning away at the face once he was certain the racer would be bent double for a while. His body pivoted and sent hooks smashing into Falcon's ears, disorienting him further. Then, he'd pelt that handsome, chiseled face with his fireballs and blast away some more at the abdominal region—perhaps a bit lower—when he noticed Douglas trying to straighten back up.

They circled one another, and Luigi waited for Falcon to rush again, which he did. And again, Luigi caught him, got right in his face and unleashed a controlled firestorm on that masculine frame, in every sense of the word. Punching, kicking and even throwing. Luigi heard shouts, starting with the C tier group and spreading like a pandemic. It was a virus inside him, a virus which quickly took hold, and he absorbed the shouts and listened to the music and his breathing as he sidestepped haphazard swings and counterattacked quickly, and then threw some long-range attacks before causing Falcon to reel once more.

The persistent tempo of the music. The shouts taking on cadence. Falcon's words stuck in his head. Fox's voice, mocking him despite the fact that Mario had ambushed him and now gripped his waist in a bear hug. The slur in Falcon's voice as he continued to rile him up. The tier list, still hanging nonchalantly on that bulletin board. And the spectators, gamers, tier list makers and suits, making a decision about him before he could have a real chance to show them what he could do.

Suddenly, Falcon rebounded with unrelenting, glancing blows to Luigi's face. He dealt some devastating knee strikes and plenty of good ones under the chin. Maybe the alcohol was starting to wear off, or the good Captain was starting to realize who he was dealing with. But Luigi had put his mind to something, and he was going to get it done. He streamed out a slow breath and kept up his attacks, staying on the offensive, staying focused, his fantasies becoming reality as he continued to hammer away at abs, sides, torso, shoulders and face. The pupils of his eyes dilated as the cheers and hollers increased in intensity and that song went on and on. His heartbeats sounded like tam-tams in his chest and his emotions were all over the place. His eyes shot pain more accurately than his fists, but Falcon was still in his own little world and wanted to show this C tier who was boss.

Luigi wouldn't give him the satisfaction of throwing caution to the wind in exchange for brute force. Nor would he allow him to see that his provocations were actually working. When word of this got out, Luigi was going to be the victim and Falcon the instigator. It would be determined that Luigi acted in self-defense. So, he hung back when he wanted to charge and saved his angry assault for when the racer was barreling at him. Falcon wasn't going to twist this incident around. And the witnesses would all agree—the good Captain started this.

Luigi was really getting into it when Douglas decided to play dirty. Snatching up a tumbler, he let the liquid fly straight into his opponent's face. The plumber reeled backwards with a startled shout. The racer pounced on him then, opening his offensive with two face blows, several knees and a barrage of punches everywhere, ending with a crushing uppercut which crashed Luigi to the floor.

Now he'd done it. _Now_ he'd done it. Now Luigi was _really_ mad.

As he got back up, he heard Falcon continuing to spew his drunken garbage and turned to see him, arms spread wide, yelling at him to show him his moves, as if he didn't already.

Oh—kay. That's torn it. Falcon wanted moves, and he'd get moves. A hangover the next morning would be the least of his problems. He was going to remember this day—and remember the man in green.

 **While in the merry month of May, from me home I started  
Left the girls of Tuam so sad and broken hearted  
Saluted father dear, kissed me darling mother  
Drank a pint of beer, me grief and tears to smother**

 **Then off to reap the corn, leave where I was born**  
 **Cut a stout black thorn to banish ghosts and goblins**  
 **Bought a pair of brogues rattling o'er the bogs**  
 **And fright'ning all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin**

 **One, two, three, four, five,**  
 **Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road**  
 **All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!**

Douglas seemed to enjoy pushing Luigi's buttons and continued to do so, the slurred shouting making the plumber's nostrils flare dangerously. He held it all in to the point he couldn't take anymore— _he just couldn't take anymore and he was going to give in to this rage and fall into Douglas's trap_ —until Douglas lost patience and barreled at him, Luigi's cue to release the proverbial restraints and make this guy eat his words. All bets were off now. He was forcing Falcon backwards now—pushing him back with punches the way he did with that Polygon. None of those fancy moves could save him from Luigi's concerted assault. Falcon could lash back, but Luigi recovered quickly. He wasn't going to be the loser the racer insisted he was.

 **In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary  
Started by daylight next morning blithe and early  
Took a drop of pure to keep me heart from sinking  
That's a Paddy's cure whenever he's on drinking**

 **See the lassies smile, laughing all the while**  
 **At me curious style, 'twould set your heart a bubblin'**  
 **Asked me was I hired, wages I required**  
 **I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin**

 **One, two, three, four, five**  
 **Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road**  
 **All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!**

Nobody in that lounge knew, but there was another spectator watching this fistfight. And he was watching it from outside the door, positioned so that he could see them, but they couldn't see him. It was Master Hand, awakened from his nap by the commotion, and from the moment he walked in on this fight, his sights on Luigi never strayed for a moment. He saw the tempestuous fury coloring his face. He saw two tiny images of Falcon reflected in those animated, dilated pupils. He felt the explosive emotions dancing inside the plumber's soul. He felt the sparkles of determination and his shamelessness over doing something he knew was wrong. He saw the Smashers and Polygons circling the two, most if not all of them cheering for Luigi. He heard the shouts blending together and the music playing. He saw Luigi take blows as if they were nothing; he saw the blood pouring all over his battered face. He saw Falcon's obviously drunken state. And he saw the _looks_ Luigi continued to give the racer, that he was fed up, wired, cross and not going to take feces from people like him anymore. Nobody called him a n—b and got away with it!

 **In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity  
To be soon deprived a view of that fine city  
So then I took a stroll, all among the quality  
Me bundle it was stole, all in a neat locality**

 **Something crossed me mind, when I looked behind**  
 **No bundle could I find upon me stick a wobblin'**  
 **Inquiring for the rogue, they said me Connaught brogue**  
 **Wasn't much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin**

 **One, two, three, four, five**  
 **Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road**  
 **All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!**

Master Hand withdrew in time to hear the first peals of exhilarated hollering coming from Luigi. The raucous noises from the others and the traditional tune got to him. His voice rose and rose, nearly muffling the sounds of the blows both sides traded. He still didn't know whether to punish them for breaking the rules or just letting them fight their own battle out. Luigi took the brunt of a ton of mess today, and he saw how inspired Samus, DK, Ness and Link were to see the worst fighter on the roster making a stand. Luigi began yelling more explosively. Master's mind was made up. The man in green would not be punished.

He let Mr. Sakurai know via e-mail how wonderful and helpful the tier list was and then continued to visually spectate the fight, musing over the peculiar yet fitting choice of music.

 **From there I got away, me spirits never falling  
Landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing  
The Captain at me roared, said that no room had he  
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy**

 **Down among the pigs, played some hearty rigs**  
 **Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubbling**  
 **When off Holyhead, I wished meself was dead**  
 **Or better for instead on the rocky road to Dublin**

 **One, two, three, four, five**  
 **Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road**  
 **All the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!**

Slowly but surely, tempers boiled themselves down, shouts decreased and energy expended itself. The fisticuffs were winding down now. The combatants were pulling themselves together and realizing the trouble they were probably in, hoping that Master didn't notice their scrap. Or Luigi was standing over a crumpled and beaten Falcon, trying and failing to make him take back his words. Who knew what could be going on in there now?

Master decided that the time to intervene was now. He leaned into the microphone and spoke.

"Attention all Smashers, please get ready for your final matches."

 **Well, the boys of Liverpool, when we safely landed  
Called meself a fool, I could no longer stand it  
Blood began to boil, temper I was losing  
Poor old Erin's Isle they began abusing**

 **"Hurrah me soul" says I, me Shillelagh I let fly**  
 **Some Galway boys were nigh and saw I was a hobble in**  
 **With a load "Hurray" joined in the affray**  
 **We quietly cleared the way for the rocky road to Dublin**

 **One, two, three, four, five**  
 **Hunt the Hare and turn her down the rocky road**  
 **And all the way to Dublin, whack follol de rah!**

 **Story is mine; lyrics are not. Reviews are appreciated.**


	7. Changed

**Changed**

 **Where did I go wrong?**

 **I lost a friend**

 **Somewhere along in the bitterness;**

 **And I would have stayed up with you all night**

 **Had I known how to save a life…**

 **-The Fray**

Night had fallen in the Smash Mansion, a calm night to end a tense day. A soft wind blew as daytime flowers closed their buds and nighttime flowers opened theirs. Crickets sent up a chirping harmony as a crescent moon presented a luminous sliver and stars formed themselves into constellations.

After a quiet dinner, the Smashers were more than ready to hit the sack.

Mario knelt at his bedside, saying a prayer to the Stars to watch over the Princess and her people, to keep her safe. After a quick reflection on the day's events, he added a prayer about his little brother. He then climbed into bed and stared out the window until he fell asleep, dreaming about Italian cuisine.

DK chatted with Cranky, Dixie, Diddy and the rest of his family over the phone, telling them that all was well, and that being ranked tenth wasn't really a bad thing. He was out in seconds, dreaming about crushing K. Rool once and for all.

Link recited an incantation to Farore, the Goddess of Courage, to keep watch over him while he slept after having a long heart-to-heart with Zelda. With her never-ending wisdom, she was able to further calm and comfort him. As he slept, he dreamed about boyhood memories.

Samus changed into a blue nightgown with Chozo markings all over it before hopping into bed. Gently, her pet Metroid climbed into bed with her, and she hugged it to her chest, kissing the top of its head. "It'll be okay, little guy," she whispered as she drifted off.

Yoshi lay awake for several minutes, thinking about everything that had happened. A tear seeped from his eye as he recalled what Luigi had been subjected to most of the day. Hopefully, it would fade into oblivion by tomorrow morning. The green dinosaur turned over, closed his eyes and nodded off.

Kirby, wearing a light blue sleeping cap, was already asleep, bubbles slowly drifting from his mouth.

Fox made phone calls to Falco, Slippy, Peppy and Krystal, still boasting about his good progress, before quickly dropping off.

Pikachu received accolades from his trainers when he told them about his high ranking. After the conversation, the electric mouse curled up and was snoring in no time.

Ness lay on his bed with a few Mr. Saturns tucked under his arm, easy listening tunes on his radio. He figured that hype like this wouldn't last long, and that the Smashers would wake up in the morning with their friendships as good as new. The psychic child closed his eyes, lulled by this optimistic thought.

Jiggs used Rest. It's super effective!

Captain Falcon was splayed on his bed, passed out from ego and the alcohol he'd consumed, drooling. The horrors he'd awaken to tomorrow…

Luigi was the only one still awake.

He was seated at his computer, fingers flying across the keyboard, blogging like crazy. Still wired from the incident that afternoon, the adrenaline morphing from action to words. He minced no words in describing the "pecking order" which Smash had turned into, with him in the position to be "pecked" the most. He detailed the burning anger which had engulfed him, amplified by Falcon's antics. He wrote about the pain from what the spectators were doing to him. He lambasted the burgeoning community for turning backs on friends they'd made days ago and accused the gamers for placing him last for the sole purpose of tormenting him. He thanked the fans who hadn't abandoned him. His words sizzled into the computer screen; his posts were paragraphs long. They could be dissertations! There was no keeping quiet now. Everything tumbled out of him in waterfalls. He continued to type until his fingers went stiff, and still, he couldn't sleep.

Luigi turned off the computer and wandered to his window, staring into the night. His fingers gripped the windowsill as Falcon and Fox's words echoed in his mind. So, he was they prey, and they were the predators? Well, one of the "predators" was currently conked out in his room, mottled with the largest bruises you'd ever seen. The other was kinda scared to go near him now. What was _wrong_ with those two? Why couldn't they just be like the lovable duo of Kirby and Pikachu and maintain their new bonds? Once upon a time, they could be in the same room with certain fighters and not feel repulsed. But now—getting wasted, trying to intimidate him and push him around and calling him names? Luigi had come in second for as long as he could remember, but there was only so much he could take!

"Let's see how _high_ you are," he hissed as he marched toward the center of his room, suddenly wheeling on his pillow, grabbing it, slamming it down and then punching it angrily, pretending it was one of the A tiers. By the time his rage attack had subsided, the pillow looked rumpled, but was still intact. Luigi placed it back onto the bed, climbed in, drew the covers about him and tried to make his mind go blank.

He didn't succeed. Silent tears seeped down his face as the last of the adrenaline wore off and the impact of being called those names registered fully inside of him.

The game of Twister that morning seemed lifetimes ago.

 **Aww, poor L! But he'll pull through. Review, please!**


	8. Authority

**Authority**

 **Authority (** _ **n**_ **): power to influence thought or behavior; persons in command**

 **Authoritative (** _ **adj.**_ **): supported by, proceeding from or being an authority**

 **-from** _ **The Merriam-Webster Dictionary**_ **, 6** **th** **ed.**

Luigi was up well before the others, when night had just faded to gray dawn. A wad of cash was nestled in one pocket of his overalls, and change clinked in the other. Just across the way was a 24-hour convenience store which sold everything—and I do mean everything—a Smasher wanted and needed. This store was considerably smaller than its size today, but it still garnered satisfaction among its customers. It topped the list of the best convenience stores in Smashville.

As the first birds awakened and sang their songs, Luigi disappeared into the store. About ten minutes later, he emerged with his arms full of merchandise. The sky had really begun to lighten when Luigi returned to his room.

He briefly leafed through his CD collection, removed the CD of his choice, turned on his stereo and placed the CD in. Then, from one of the bags of merchandise, he selected a practice dummy, complete with a realistic face and build. Luigi wasted no time in setting up the dummy. The salesperson who'd recommended this particular brand assured him that little or no assembly was required, which the man in green appreciated. Once the practice dummy was ready, Luigi put away the rest of his purchases, opened his curtains and his window, flicked off his lights and hit the "play" button on the stereo.

And then he pounced on the dummy.

Mario stirred awake in time to hear the first peals of his brother's music, which did little to drown out the punches and grunts. The red-capped hero was rumpled and unshaven, dried drool on both corners of his mouth. His sleep had been quite the uneasy one and had come in staccato intervals. Memories of Douglas's stunt that afternoon had always snatched slumber from him. It wasn't just because of what the racer had said to Luigi; it was because the racer had tried and failed to intimidate him. His baby bro had held his own and given that upstart racer exactly what he deserved. He could imagine the condition Douglas was in now.

Mr. Nintendo slid out of bed, showered, washed his hair, shaved and put on a clean shirt and overalls. He styled his hair in his usual way and slipped on his iconic red hat. Since breakfast wouldn't be served in a while, Mario decided to watch some TV while listening to his brother train in the other room.

Perhaps through some shared telepathy, Ness, DK, Samus and Link were also awake. DK was lifting weights, Link was practicing with his Master Sword against dummies of his own and Ness and Samus were going for a jog outside. They all made plans to meet up with Luigi at breakfast and discuss a plan of attack against the "upstairs", so to speak, because if they messed with one of them, they messed with them all. Samus really hoped that the Captain saw the light after yesterday's events, because she didn't want to stop seeing him. Douglas was a genial, if annoying, guy, but he just tended to let things get to his head.

After sleeping on and off most of the night, Luigi was loaded for bear. He'd purposely selected a CD with lengthy, lyric-less songs so he could just pummel away. These practice dummies were the number one brand in Smashville because of their ability to last a long time. Too bad they reminded him too much of Captain Falcon—otherwise, he wouldn't have focused so much on the stomach area and then the face, shouting as the anger came back to him. Now, the dummy before him was merely a mangled mess of clay, the face smashed off and the stomach a gaping crater. There were dents along the neck area where Luigi had practiced some strikes to the throat. Once the practice tool had been completely rendered useless, Luigi simply replaced it with a fresh one and kept going. When his CD ran through, he popped in a new one. And on and on and on and on and on and on it went until he ran out of practice dummies, until he heard his perspiration dripping on the carpet, until his knuckles were sore and until the last of his foul mood had been blasted away. He turned off his stereo, cleaned up his room and plunked himself down beside the window, breath steadying and sweat drying. As soon as he was certain he felt better, he stood, went to the bathroom and took a good, long shower.

Meanwhile, hearing the noises stop, Mario turned off the TV. Good, his brother was calming down now. There was the closing of the bathroom door and the rush of the shower. Then, there was rustling as Luigi changed into a clean pair of clothes. Quickly, Mario crossed the room to the connecting door and knocked.

"Bro? May I come in?"

A few seconds later, Luigi opened the door.

And he smiled.

* * *

As the Smashers were finishing up their breakfast, Master Hand's voice crackled over the PA system. "All Smashers, please report to the main hall immediately. Leave your belongings behind. And no talking."

By the tone of his voice, everyone knew that something had happened, and that Master was _not_ happy. Falcon, still sporting a dull headache, was especially alarmed by this sudden meeting. Fox, also battling his own guilt, placed a paw on the racer's shoulder.

Silently, the twelve filed into the main hall and sat on the chairs provided for them, waiting uneasily for Master Hand. They didn't have long to wait before he warped into the room.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning, Master Hand," chorused the Smashers.

"I suppose you'd like to know why you're here," said Master.

"Yes, Master Hand."

"I summoned you here because I want to make a clarification about the list hanging on our bulletin board," Master began. "That list is not to be used as a tool to judge others or as an excuse to pick on or harass someone just because you're higher up than them. That list is designed for competitive purposes only."

"What are you getting at, Master Hand?" Falcon had the gall to ask.

"I am greatly disappointed in the display I observed yesterday," the glove sternly went on. "Some of you were actively excluding others from your group. You were shamelessly mocking your friends and talking down to them. You were treating them like somebody's kid sister or brother. That list is not a social scale—yet you're treating it as such."

He paused to allow his words to sink in.

"And do you know what I've seen on our blog? It's open season for the lower-ranked fighters. I have placed a suspension on their accounts until they remove those abusive posts and apologize. As for the fighters involved in this, such atrocious behavior ends today. Forever. This is your first and only warning. I called this tournament so different universes can meet and have fun, not tear each other to pieces. So, if I find out that you're continuing to use that list as a way to harass your fellow fighters, you will be punished severely. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Master Hand." Nobody wanted to incur the wrath of the tournament's leader.

"Your matches will commence in thirty minutes," said Master Hand. "Dismissed."

The twelve fighters got up to prepare for the day's bouts.

Douglas stopped Luigi as he was about to leave. "Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," said Luigi.

"I feel bad about yesterday," sighed Douglas.

"I'm sure you do, because of that hangover," quipped Luigi.

"No, I mean I feel _very_ bad," clarified Falcon. "Like—it was wrong for me to act like that."

"Yes, it was."

"Maybe I shouldn't have called you that name and said that you were a loser."

"No, you shouldn't have."

"I kinda acted like an idiot."

"You _definitely_ acted like an idiot, and you know it."

"It was just—I was drunk and felt on top of the world and…"

"Like _that_ 's an excuse."

"I deeply regret everything," sighed Falcon.

"I know."

"Yeah, man," Fox chimed in. "You know I didn't mean all that about a pecking order. And—you're not the bottom of the food chain."

"Oh, yeah. You saw that yourself," winked Luigi.

"We swear that we'll never act superior like that again," promised Falcon, hand over his heart. "Can you ever forgive us?"

Luigi looked from one A tier to the other, taking in their hangdog faces, his mind alive with the sounds of their obnoxious shouting and drunken hooting and Falcon baiting him about showing moves and—

"We'll see," he smiled.

And with that, he turned and made a brisk exit.

Fox and Falcon exchanged glances and then shrugged. It was better than nothing.

 _We'll see…_

 **We'll see how long *that* promise lasts. And trust me, it won't be long before they're back to their old selves again.**

 **Please review.**


	9. One Day at a Time

**One Day at a Time**

 **Pecking order (n): a hierarchy of status seen among members of a group of people or animals, originally as observed among hens**

 **-from Google Search**

 **Luigi's POV**

 _ **Day 1**_

 **After the emergency meeting, things seem back to their normal state. I haven't been picked on once. Isn't that wonderful? Not even once! Douglas still has some leftover aches, which I can't complain about, and he and Fox are being super nice to me. They shower me with compliments and gifts. I know what they're up to, and it's going to take a lot more than comic books, model Arwings, F-Zero yearbooks, goodies, invites to parties and the like to make up for their little act last night. Their chests are still a bit swollen with pride, but they're the Falcon and Fox I used to know, the same ones at that game of Twister. Ness, Jiggs and I are somewhat back on speaking terms with the good Captain, who's also trying to soften Samus back up. As for Fox, he's hanging around with Kirby and Pikachu and worming his way back into the good graces of the C-tiers. Man, you should've seen me at my matches today! I can't believe I was still steaming that much, twelve or so hours after! But then again, words can hurt as hard as physical blows, and no matter how many apologies are issued, you can never forget the pain. But I'm confident we'll work things out.**

 _ **Day 2**_

 **I don't believe it. I just don't believe it. One loss was all it took for it all to start back up again. And it wasn't even that big of a loss, either! Unfortunately, my opponent just so happened to be among the upper tiers, opening the floodgates to the scorn and jeering all over our Smash blog. I could hear Douglas and Fox laughing their behinds off in the stands, and I thought I glimpsed some sort of recording device. So much for their remorse yesterday! I wanted to confront them, but I figured it would make things worse, so I just ignored them and played one-on-one hoops with Ness.**

 **Pikachu and Kirby spend all of their free time together. I think something is going on between them. They say they're just friends, but I can smell romance like the scent from a rose. When they're not gobbling up ice-cream and other sweets, then they're going on Warp Star rides and trying to get all twelve of us together to do activities. How sweet! Sam, DK, Ness, Link and I prefer to lounge around with them. They dispense the coolest advice—once you decipher the flurries of "pika"-ing and "poyo"-ing. I really like it when Mario and Yoshi join us; it's our perfect retreat from that egotistical duo.**

 **Online, I enjoy chatting with Isai and Sir Meta Knight. Meta has explained that he was interested in participating, but he wanted to step back and see how well his student was doing on his own. He is happy but also humbled over Kirby being ranked second and offers me tips on meditation when the stress gets too much. Isai is the firecracker of the duo. Whenever he sees a trashy post about me, he rains fire and brimstone upon that user. He offers to tear the offenders to pieces, and I always talk him down. I can deal with these people; I've dealt with them for most of my life.**

 **My next match is coming; I have to go!**

 _ **Day 3**_

 **Earlier today, I was in the bathroom, tending to my business, when I felt this trickling on my right pant leg. So, I looked, and—oh,** _ **Dio**_ **, I'm seeing red just remembering it. The yellowish stream aiming at me, soaking my leg. The familiar laughter as I hightailed it out of there to change clothes. Pulling off my overalls to discover that it wasn't what I thought it was—it was lemonade. Lemonade! Okay, so first, the name calling, second, the apologies, and now pranks? What makes them think pranking me is better than calling me a loser and—that other name? I want to tell Master Hand about it, but as the old saying goes, no one likes a tattletale.**

 **I'm not the only one, either! Ness's socks, underwear, yo-yo and bat are mysteriously misplaced, his pants are pulled down when nobody's looking, and he's subject to copious bathroom and shower pranks. They even took one of his Mr. Saturns! But Ness is no wimp. He's very good with a baseball bat and a yo-yo, if you know what I mean. In his second-to-last match for the day, he persuaded the Mr. Saturn thief to relinquish his loot. And I persuaded some of the pranksters to apologize to him.**

 **Nobody dares try any of that mess on Sam or DK. I think Douglas tried something on Link once and wound up facing the Master Sword. So, I guess I'm the main target now. But if you mess with one C tier, you mess with all of them. Remember that.**

 _ **Day 7**_

 **Wow, I can't believe a whole week has gone by. And there has been some change—for the worst! The bathroom and shower pranks are more frequent now. I have chocolate stains, mud splatters and lemonade all over my clothes by the end of the day. There are bloggers laughing about how useless I am. The spectators overlook my wins and make fun of me for being a clone. Isai and Meta still support me, and I always decompress by penning strident blog posts which will probably be treated as jokes anyway, but no matter. Master Hand's warning have been ignored, as I'm constantly heckled. There's been a lot of citation-issuing lately. Apologies are muttered with sullen faces, without meaning. They treat it like a "get out of jail free" card. One word, and** _ **poof**_ **! Everything's better. But due to the severity of their words and actions, I'm not going to let them off so easily.**

 _ **Day 15**_

 **Two weeks, and no change. Why is there no change? Why is nobody listening to Master Hand? He has authority, doesn't he? I keep telling him that these ignorant fools aren't listening to them, but he's wary over using harsh methods because he doesn't want to come off as a cruel, heartless dictator, rather than a benevolent leader. I kind of understand what he's getting at, but he still should let them know that he's not joking on the matter.**

 **I love it when I'm matched up against Falcon or Fox. I love the looks in their eyes as we face each other on the battlefield. Over the course of these two weeks, I've already given Falcon what was coming to him, most memorably at Hyrule Castle when I got him at the area with the gazebo and infinitely combed him into the next century! Oh, yeah! I feel myself cooling off a little, but the sting is still there, and I doubt it will ever go away. And then there's Fox. He's a smidge more tolerable, but I just can't stand the way he scoffs when he's taunting. Don't worry—I destroyed him in several matches, as well. And later today, I'm going to be in a free-for-all against both of them! Isn't that great? I can't imagine how much fun I'm going to have with those two! And I hope every last one of those mocking spectators attends, so they can see their illusions slowly crumble to dust right before their eyes. Stuff is about to get serious, and there is going to be pain. And blood. Mostly theirs.**

 **I need to get ready.**

 _ **Day 16**_

 **I can't sleep at night often. Either I'm wired or angry or worried—I'm usually the last to drop off. Sometimes, I invite Ness, DK, Sam, Link and Jiggs over for all-nighters. The stuff we do is enough to make me drowsy. But there are nights when I need to be by myself. Recently, I've stocked up on those practice dummies, and whenever I need a release, I pull out a dummy and a CD, and boom. Other night, I simply put on some swell beats to roll my hips to. When I dance, I say things I can't say out loud. Dancing and shimmying the night away has become such a staple that my body has gotten used to falling asleep late and waking up early. And it's something I look forward to once I'm done fighting.**

 _ **Day 25**_

 **They think that just because I'm the worst, I can't beat anyone on the roster? Oh, boy. They have another thing coming. There's a nice little surprise on my blog today, my doctored-up version of the tier list. And when they see it, they'll realize there's more to me than meets the eye.**

 **And after I simultaneously beat Falcon and Fox, too! Maybe if I vanquish Pikachu and Kirby, I'll get their attention…**

 _ **Day 50**_

 **I can't look at it. I dare not look at it. The tier list, the thing that started this whole mess. Just keep walking past. Pretend it's not there. It wants to rule over me but I'm not going to let it. You see, Jiggs lent me one of her infamous black markers. It's good to have a black marker. You can do many things with a black marker.**

 **There's less jeering now. Perhaps they're catching on. Or Master Hand has finally put his foot down. I still fill up my blog with heated posts; Falcon and Fox are still up to their shenanigans. They're just being more covert about it. But I taught myself not to yelp anymore when they pull their pranks on me. It won't be long before they get tired and abandon the whole thing. And if not, I can keep myself in until my next match, where I let everything go.**

 _ **Day 75**_

 **Today wasn't my best day, I guess. More losses than wins. I don't know why—I was doing so good—**

 **But oh, do they** _ **love**_ **it! They love seeing me stumble and fall, bruise and bleed, because that's what I'm supposed to do in their eyes. I gave each of my opponents everything I had and more, yet I still lost to some of them. I don't know if it's the stage of choice or if they suddenly grew stronger overnight. But I could sense the spectators (except my fans, of course), eating it up, cheering and laughing as I suffered one humiliating defeat after the other.**

 **I find myself standing before the paper that started it all, fists clenched, tears streaming down my face. For 75 days I've held it all in and took more than any being could. But I keep hearing the laughter and the insults and the hating, and I feel something inside of me flipping a switch. Tears turn into almost hysterical sobs, snot runs down my nose, my body starts shuddering out of control, and a scream rips out of my throat.**

 **And before I know it, the black marker is in my hand and I've yanked the cap off, and** _ **that stupid list is just sitting there as if mocking me along with the rest**_ _ **and I can't bear the sight anymore, I can't look at it anymore and it's still staring at me and shamelessly reminding me how much of a blight I am AND IT MEANS TO PUT A CURSE ON ME, IT MEANS TO BURN INTO ME AND COVER ME IN ITS FOUL STENCH WHICH I CAN NEVER WASH OFF NO MATTER HOW HARD I TRY AND I'M STILL BEING THROWN UNDER THE BUS BY THOSE TWO, THEY DON'T KNOW WHEN TO FREAKING LAY OFF AND OH GOD IT'S TOO MUCH IT'S TOO MUCH I CAN'T TAKE IT ANY LONGER I CAN'T TAKE IT I CAN'T TAKE IT I CAN'T TAKE IT I CAN'T TAKE IT I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T I CAN'T!**_

 **Last thing I remember, I'm pouncing on that infernal thing.**

 _ **Day 76**_

 **That tier list will never bother me or my friends again.**

* * *

 **Yikes, that was intense. Please leave a review.**


	10. Sugary Sweet Karma

**Sugary Sweet Karma**

 **Karma (n): the force generated by a person's actions held in Hinduism and Buddhism to perpetuate reincarnation and to determine the nature of the person's next existence**

 **-The Merriam-Webster Dictionary, 6** **th** **ed. (2004)**

The past two-and-a-half months were rough on Master Hand.

His words apparently went through one ear and out the other. Fox, Falcon and some of the spectators persisted in their disrespectful behavior. He'd issued armloads of citations and even imposed brief suspensions on the racer and the vulpine. Alas, they'd just switch to more covert tactics. One moment, they could be begging forgiveness from Luigi, and the next, they could be targeting him for pee and poop pranks as well as stunts in the shower. He could sense the plumber's emotions slowly brewing and considered having a chat with him, but he'd peep in on him from time to time and see him in lively converse with the other C tiers, Jiggs or Mario. It didn't look like he was falling apart at all.

On the battlefield, Luigi seemed to use the jeers as fuel, especially when a higher tier was the opponent. Master Hand would never forget the match between the man in green and Captain Falcon at Hyrule Castle one fine afternoon. It started off normally, but only a few minutes in, Luigi seemed to explode! He quickly got his opponent to an area of the stage popularly nicknamed "the Tent", where, true to its moniker, the plumber unloaded on the good Captain with infinite combos using a wall and the gazebo. By the time Douglas escaped, it was too late. Luigi had won. Douglas had spent the afternoon sulking, but Luigi didn't gloat. He never gloated. He just blushed and mumbled something about good practice.

Then, there was the morning where both Fox and Douglas were pitted against Luigi in a free-for-all. Predictably, the two A tiers tried to double team the man in green. But it was the plumber who got the drop on them, waiting for them to close in before hacking away with brute force. They barely managed to lay a single hit on him. The match got alarmingly bloody, and Master Hand swore he heard a thing or two break. Yet Luigi sensed that Master was about to halt the match and disqualify him, so he calmed down slightly in time to clinch the win.

Yet despite these victories, he was still being trounced by spectators and bloggers alike.

Now, it was seventy-five days after he first put the tier list up. The day's last matches had been fought, and everyone was getting ready for dinner. Master Hand was about to sound the call when—

Violent sobs erupted from the main hallway, followed by a wet scribbling sound.

Master tried to investigate the noise, but he found that he was frozen where he sat. His voice was gone, too, so he couldn't shout for one of the Polygons to check it out. The scribbling, yelling and crying went on for about two minutes. Then, the noise dwindled into gasps and quiet weeps.

"All Smashers, please, report to the cafeteria," Master Hand finally said.

Dinner passed by in the usual way. The twelve Smashers chatted among themselves while enjoying their food. It was after they'd retired to their rooms and dishes were being cleared away when a Polygon came running up to the Hand.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Sir, you've got to see this!" shouted the Polygon. "Just look at what some nutcase has done!"

Master Hand went with the Polygon straightaway to the main hallway. The tier list still hung there on the bulletin board, next to the day's matches, as it had for the past 75 days.

Somebody had wildly scribbled all over it in black.

And with that black scribble were words, very strong, angry words, which, translated from Italian, would be appalling profanity.

"Oh, dear God," murmured Master Hand.

* * *

The next morning, Master Hand made the burden-relieving decision of having the tier list taken down altogether. It was doing more harm than good, and once the daily reminder of everyone's rankings were gone, perhaps everyone would finally shape up.

For Luigi, the effect was instantaneous. His fire began to cool, and he could better hold his temper on the battlefield. Ness's mood also visibly improved, as did Link's, Samus's and DK's. They became more laid back, now that they were free from the specter of that thing. They could care less about what the audience thought of them now. Perhaps the incident with the black marker had blasted it out of them.

Unfortunately for two certain A tiers, it would take a series of humiliating blunders to shape them up…

* * *

It started with a Team Battle. Samus and Douglas against Ness and Kirby. Douglas had spent the minutes before the match flirting with Sam, and while both teams were waiting on the stage, he'd talked a little trash to Ness. Sam had given Douglas a severe look, but remained silent, choosing to focus on the battle ahead. Her partner had thought his high ranking would spell an easy victory for them, but he must've forgotten that in a Team Battle, a fighter shouldn't have the teammate do the grunt work while he made wisecracks to the opposing team and tried to show off for the audience. The match culminated in a disastrous defeat for the two bounty hunters, courtesy of Kirby copying Douglas's Falcon Punch and Ness's sturdy baseball bat, which had cracked slightly by the end of the fight. Of course, Douglas reacted badly, refusing to take his recklessness and carelessness into account and trying to use his teammate and his opponents as scapegoats. Samus wanted to scold her crush, but instead headed off to the gym, beat three punching bags within an inch of their lives and hogged the cardio area until she dripped with sweat. When that didn't work, she went to the Training Area, where she practically demolished a few Polygons before Luigi relieved them. He'd witnessed the Team Battle as well as the aftermath and was just as hot as Sam. They went good and hard at each other until a Polygon arrived and insisted that they take a break. Then, Luigi treated Sam to lunch, where they commiserated over Falcon's barely tolerable behavior. At nightfall, Douglas showed up at Samus's door with a bouquet of flowers, admitting that he was wrong and that he probably overreacted earlier. Regardless, Samus was cool toward the good Captain for a few days after.

Then, Fox was in a heated battle with Link atop his starship. He was so busy with catty remarks over Link being eleventh that he forgot about the stage hazards and found himself caught up in a shower of Arwing lasers. The Hero of Time easily finished him with the Master Sword, and it took a week for him to speak to Fox again. The vulpine acted like nothing was the matter and spent most of his time with his BFF, Douglas, reminding the other ten how high and mighty they were.

Their day was coming, and approaching fast…

* * *

"Show me ya moves!" crowed Douglas.

He and Luigi stood across from each other, atop different platforms. The match had just begun, and Falcon was confident that he'd smoke this plumber!

Not a muscle moved on Luigi's face in response to the taunt. He communicated only with his eyes, and Falcon must've read the message in them, because he looked away. Steadily, Luigi put his fists up, watching and waiting. In the back of his mind, he knew what the racer was going to do. Maybe he could use it to his advantage.

Falcon smirked. "Scared now, huh?"

Luigi said nothing, hands clenched to the point they were perspiring. He'd let Douglas show _his_ moves first.

"Come on!" goaded Falcon, leaping across the platforms and aiming an attack at Luigi.

The plumber's eyes glittered, and his mouth worked in anticipation. He could feel his muscles snap to attention as he wound up. Before he could let go with his fist, however…

"FALCON KICK!"

Douglas found himself on empty space as his high momentum caused him to overshoot Luigi. He hung there helplessly for a bit before dropping into the blast zone below.

Luigi didn't even bat an eye.

Falcon respawned and glared at his opponent. "You were lucky," he huffed, "but I'll get you _this_ time! Show me ya moves, L!"

Once again, he lunged at his opponent. Luigi pulled back and had just mapped out the trajectory for a spectacular punch when…

Douglas attempted a Falcon Dive and missed by a fraction of an inch. Luigi watched stonily as his opponent free fell into the abyss below.

 _That's odd. I thought he'd learned the first time._

For the second time, Douglas respawned, looking irate. "You're getting on my nerves," he growled.

 _Why? I'm not doing anything_.

"L, I'm gonna wreck you so hard!" vowed the racer, flames forming in his fists.

 _Do it, Falcon. Work yourself up and then spring for me in a rage. Come on. I'd love to Super Smash that smug look off your face_.

"Show me ya moves!" yelled Falcon as he charged at Luigi.

 _Come and get it, Falcon_.

But for the third consecutive time, Falcon overshot Luigi and lost a stock by a self-destruct. He now had only one stock left.

Luigi could swear he saw steam rising from the good Captain's ears. "This is it, plumber! Now I've got you!" the racer shouted.

With each self-destruct he'd witnessed, Luigi's face had gotten tighter and redder. How much longer would he have to put up with this?

"Show me ya moves!"

He practically sprang for Luigi's throat. But since he threw caution and strategy to the wind—no such luck. Down he went.

GAME SET!

Groggily, Douglas rose to his feet. "Ugh," he moaned. "What happened?"

"What do you think? You SD'd, and I won." Luigi's voice sounded tight, and Falcon had a clue why.

"Falcon—mope," pouted the racer. "I should've watched where I was going."

"Instead of taunting 'the last place loser' about showing moves?" snapped Luigi, using air quotes, his face completely granite. Unreleased energy was contained in his lean, limber body.

Falcon held his hands up in a "back off" gesture. "I guess I got too cocky and let myself be carried away. I'm sorry."

Luigi dropped his eyes for a second. When he looked up, he'd softened just a little bit. "I know," he replied. "I was just about to have you, too.

"Tell you what," he continued with a slight smile. "I'll talk to Master Hand about a rematch tomorrow, same Smash time, same Smash place. How does that sound?"

"Yes!" Falcon said easily.

"Somehow, I knew you'd like that," deadpanned Luigi. The icy, severe look came back to his face. "But don't think for one second that I'll go easy on you."

"Of course."

"It was just luck that I got to win without laying a finger on you, due to your carelessness." Luigi paused and took a deep breath to keep his voice level.

"I never thought I'd see the day where somebody won a match by doing essentially nothing," mused Douglas. "FALCON—AMAZED!"

"Oh, you'll be more than amazed tomorrow, because I'm gonna show you the most spectacular moves you've ever _seen_!" Luigi shot back. He'd have this big shot aching and moaning and begging for mercy!

"FALCON—DEAL!" grinned the good Captain.

But Luigi wasn't done yet. He hoped that this incident would help Douglas see the folly in his overconfidence. Carefully, he hopped across the stage and stood nose to nose with the racer. Falcon wasn't used to seeing Luigi so serious.

"I made a fool of myself," Douglas finally said.

"Yes, you did."

"I thought I'd win because I was ranked higher, and look how that ended up."

"Tell me about it."

"I'm really sorry, Luigi."

"I heard you the first time, Douglas. But I'm sure Samus didn't. And neither did Ness, DK, Link or the others…" Luigi trailed off as he heard his voice sharpen. "You've been extremely cocky lately, and you know it."

"How can I make it up to you?" asked Falcon.

"Well, you can exercise more caution in your taunting and spend more time coughing up a strategy, for starters," Luigi told him. "Why else have you suffered losses lately? How can you explain the outcome of that Team Battle— _where you tried to blame the woman you've been romancing_. Have you noticed that she barely speaks to you nowadays and how aggressively she spars with you when you _are_ together? She relayed an important message for me to share with you, Douglas: Cut the crap, or it's over."

"Gee. That's blunt," muttered Falcon.

"We used to play Twister together!" Luigi was on a roll now. Standing here on a battle stage, the words were finally snapping loose. "You, me, Ness and Jiggs—we were the Formidable Four! One quartet, taking on the world! There was a time when you didn't mind breathing the same air I breathed! We were destined to set this tournament on fire! But you saw that tier list, and boom—you were too perfect for everyone else except Fox! Your partner in crime, Fox! It was you and Fox, and the rest of us could drop dead! You couldn't even accept a sundae from Kirby because you'd be sitting with 'some bad apples'! All through that day, and the days after, you thought you were something else! That's right, I overheard you making spectacles of yourselves at the ice cream parlor and getting drunk in your room—and I was going to have a talk with you, too! And don't think I haven't noticed your antics in the last two months or so—strutting like peacocks, blasting 2pac and other gangster rap like your so freaking cool, pulling pranks, turning your noses up at fighters just as strong as you—even your fellow unlockables! Do you have any idea of your arrogance and ignorance?!"

Luigi continued to speak, incarnating the frustrations shared by the other C tiers. The talks with Samus, Ness and Link in which he let them vent before venting in return. The invisible barrier forming between them and the A tiers. The stuck-up spectators. Luigi beating down dummies, dancing, sparring with friends and Polygons and doing artwork to clear his head. The cathartic sleepovers with Ness, Sam, DK and Link. The igniting phone calls in which a C tier spread the word of harassment. A single loss being the powder keg for such ignorant antics. Syllables exploded from Luigi's lips in a relentless barrage, Douglas trying and failing to return fire. The plumber's voice rose in volume and slightly in pitch, and he gestured passionately. He was taking his aggression and reshaping it into assertion—no words could describe how amazing it felt as it all crescendoed into an all-consuming wave.

"WE'RE JUST FREAKING TIRED OF YOUR LITTLE ATTITUDE, OKAY?! JUST STOP IT—STOP NOW! YOU AND FOX—YOU NEED TO KNOCK IT OFF, BECAUSE WE'RE NOT TAKING ANYMORE OF IT!"

He finished with his fists clenched, breathing heavily. Dropping his voice, Luigi concluded:

"Think about that when we're battling tomorrow."

* * *

Fox's major day of reckoning arrived in a fierce one-on-one against Luigi atop the Great Fox.

After Luigi suffered a crushing loss, the vulpine felt a twinge of guilt and decided to cheer up the man in green with a ride on his starship. Luigi had drowsed off halfway through. Thirty minutes before their fight, Fox woke Luigi, who'd taken the opportunity to shower and change clothes.

The shower had invigorated him, for he figured out that Fox was his next opponent and under no uncertain terms vowed to best him. Fox would never forget their little talk, Luigi standing so close to him in his Fire Flower uniform, his eyes going _snap crackle pop_ with adrenaline, the intense, whispered voice and the warmth of his breath against his fur. It made him all the more ready to confront the plumber atop the craft, and almost immediately, the mercenary leader found himself on the ropes, taking heavy blows from his green-clad opponent.

At a three-stock disadvantage, Fox placed a distress call to his Star Fox team, communicating with them via his earpiece while continuing to trade blows with Luigi.

"Guys! I'm being clobbered down here!"

"A wise decision not to bring me along, eh, Fox?" sniffed the ace pilot, Falco Lombardi.

"Darn it, Falco! I asked you a million _billion_ times if you wanted me to bring you an application, and you said you weren't up to it!" huffed Fox. He began to lay on some defensive fire using his Blaster.

"What's the situation, Fox?" asked Peppy Hare.

"We've been in close hand-to-hand combat for the past half hour! This guy's giving me everything he's got!"

"Like I said I would!" yelled Luigi.

"How's that Blaster working out?" questioned Slippy Toad.

"Cheap thing? My opponents don't flinch, and there's no sign of a wound or anything!" Fox managed to blindside Luigi with his Firefox and a few solid kicks. "My opponent's stronger than I thought!"

"I thought you knew that," said Luigi as he got up.

"Hey, Fox—I know how to get you out of this!" Peppy said happily.

"Yeah? And what's that?"

"Do a barrel roll!"

"Oh, come on…!"

He was cut off as Luigi delivered a blinding blow which sent Fox sprawling onto his back. As the vulpine struggled up, Luigi fluidly spun and aimed a sharp kick at his opponent, knocking his earpiece clean off his face.

"I don't see why you need your friends, since you're so good," explained Luigi as Fox rolled to safety.

Fox winced. Luigi was right about that.

Light on his feet, the man in green darted close once more, smashed the vulpine a few times in the side and sent the Blaster twirling off into deep space with a lucky blow.

"I told you your space gadgets wouldn't get past me," he stated.

"I can use my fists, too," Fox said hotly.

"Prove it."

And Fox did. He knew a lot of martial arts from his father and other space heroes he met up with on his travels. Though fast and versatile, Luigi continued to more than match him blow for blow, giving Fox his all, plus more. He never reneged on a promise, after all. Things were getting really desperate for Fox now. On his last stock, heavily damaged, with Luigi not even close to a KO percentage. Bruised, aching, exhausted—and now holding tightly to the tail of the Great Fox. Imagine the humiliation! About to be beaten aboard his own ship! By a mediocre character, no less!

 _No! I am_ not _losing to the worst character in the game!_

Everything went silent. A slight chill swept down Fox's spine. He sensed something was dreadfully wrong.

Dare he look up?

A few paces from him was Luigi, motionless. His fists were half-clenched. Shock, disbelief and hurt were written all over his face. Slack-jawed, stunned. Then, Luigi's power of movement returned. As he moved closer to the ledge where Fox clung, something scary began to brew in his wounded doe eyes, naked malevolence darkening his face. It hit Fox like an Arwing laser—he just spoke that sentence out loud.

"Wow, Fox," Luigi spoke up, monotone. "You _had_ to bring that up, didn't you?"

"L—you've got to believe me—that just slipped out—I…"

"Well, _this_ slipped out, too," Luigi said icily, balancing himself on the ledge and doing a bashful little kick which broke Fox's grip, sending him plummeting down.

GAME SET!

* * *

 _Oh, yeah_ , Luigi thought to himself a few days after. _I just love the sweet, succulent taste of payback—_

* * *

 **Guest responses:**

 **Monkey999Boy: I hope this chapter didn't disappoint!**

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	11. Armistice Day

**Armistice Day**

" **Grudges are for those who insist that they are owed something; forgiveness, however, is for those who are substantial enough to move on."**

 **-Criss Jami**

 **Truce (n): an agreement between enemies or opponents to stop fighting or arguing for a certain time.**

 **-from Google Search**

It was as if scales had been dropped from Fox and Falcon's eyes.

Whenever they walked into a room, the temperature dropped twenty degrees. Falcon found it increasingly difficult to woo Samus after that disaster of a Team Battle. Fox discovered that he could barely hold a conversation with anyone in the C tier. Their lovely, glossy bubble of a world had popped after suffering mortifying defeats at the hands of the worst fighter on the roster. In Falcon's case, he had no one to blame for self-destructing or making avoidable mistakes. In Fox's case, no one had made him blurt those words out in front of God and everyone. They couldn't help but take note at how little they spent practicing; they always thought their wins were guaranteed. But had they spent some time in the area, they would've seen how fiercely Luigi threw himself into his sparring, as did Samus in her two piece, Link in a light, cotton tunic, pants and boots, DK in his red tie, and Ness in his baseball cap, T-shirt, shorts and tennis shoes. Even Kirby and Pikachu strove to keep their skills top notch! It took a few more trouncings for them to finally acknowledge their flaws. Winning the C tiers back, however, would be an uphill battle.

In the days following their recent defeats, Falcon and Fox began spending more time in the Training Area, not to flaunt, but to practice. Sometimes with one another and other times with surprised Polygons. They knew something was wrong if the Polygons manning the Training Area barely knew who they were. With their help, the A tiers pinpointed their weaknesses and started composing strategies to improve their offensive and defensive games. Their swagger had toned way down, and they began to treat their opponents with the respect they deserved. No more loud bragging and boasting, no more excessive taunting and getting caught up in stage hazards as a result. No more endless hours of obnoxious gangster rap. No more deliberate provocations of opponents. All of that was over for them. Luigi had lectured the both of them good and strong after his blistering vanquishing of them, and the two turned his words over and over again in their minds. And what he had to say bore a lot of truth.

Of course, Douglas would sneak peaks at Samus in her sports bra and gym shorts, working up a sweat as she lit into a punching bag, a Polygon or a fellow Smasher. She'd arrive at the Training Area or the gym with her hair pinned up and ready to go. Her body was so swift and limber that maybe she could fight without that hi-tech suit of hers. He'd wisely wait till she'd exhausted most of her explosive energy before making small talk with her. She'd remain coolly formal at first, but as they days floated by, she felt the knot of anger loosening from her chest, her hurt and frustration scattering to the wind like grains of sand. With his good looks and smooth way with words, Douglas began to melt her heart all over again.

The same could be said for Luigi. Once he finally got Fox and Douglas to see their follies, he watched them vigilantly, wanting to see if they followed his advice. And they did. They clocked in more hours at the gym and took it seriously. Engaged in a match, they held their tongues and exercised more caution. He even noticed that the audience was jeering at him less; seeing the higher tiers blunder must've been their wake-up call. Or maybe they noticed how he was no longer reacting and got the hint. Luigi didn't press the matter, instead taking to his blog and trading stories with Isai, Sir Meta Knight and others who decided to follow him. Ever since the day with that black marker, his temper gradually boiled itself down to a manageable level. Pressure relieved itself from his heart, and now that those two were finally laying off on their bathroom and shower pranks, he was actually starting to move past that fateful night. The drunken insults barely mattered anymore. Douglas and Fox had seen the light, realized what they'd done and were sorry for it. It would take more time, but their misdeeds would eventually be erased, and everyone would move past it, whether they entirely forgot about it or not. By taking the opportunity to change their ways, they'd taken a step in the right direction.

Gradually, Luigi felt better enough to invite the racer or vulpine to spar with him. Often, they'd be the ones to extend that invitation, much to the plumber's surprise. These spars were still a little tense, but once he saw that they were taking him as seriously as any other fighter, Luigi relaxed. But he wasn't going to get too chummy with them just yet—he was still pretty guarded when it came to their interactions with his fellow C tiers. Falcon and Fox were undeterred in their mission to prove to everyone that they'd changed. Whenever they felt that familiar cockiness welling up, they'd remember losing due to the silliest mistakes or how the others rarely wanted to spend time with them nowadays. In that Training Area or even his room, Luigi would have his favorite tunes on full blast and go one-on-one with two fighters in serious need of attitude improvement. With each passing skirmish and match, they softened up the man in green, and Ness, Samus, DK and Link started catching on. Once Luigi started softening his stance, so did the other C tiers. Then, the B tiers and finally the S tiers. Fox and Falcon were feeling great! They were sitting in the ice cream parlor, splitting delicious sundaes with Kirby and Pikachu. Or, they were out in the yard, playing baseball with Ness. Or, they were in the lounge, having drinks with Mario and Link. Or, they were strolling around with Yoshi and Jiggs. Or, they were playing board games and card games with some of the fighters. Falcon even broke out Twister one morning and invited Ness, Jiggs and Luigi to his room to play.

To which Luigi replied, "Don't push your luck."

It was true that their relationship improved by leaps and bounds in the days, weeks and months following the black marker incident. It was visibly clear that the boundaries drawn by the tier list were fading. However, while Falcon was gradually regaining the favor of his fellow unlockables, he still had work to do before the Formidable Four united once again.

* * *

The first tournament was in its final months when Ness awoke to find a mint under his pillow. He stared at it curiously before phoning Luigi in the room across from him.

"Yeah, I have one, too," said the man in green.

Jiggs reported that she had a mint under her pillow, too.

Samus, meanwhile, had discovered a box of jewelry under her bed, along with a box of chocolates. She had a hunch as to who sent these and why.

The other Smashers stirred awake to find some sort of gift under their pillows, beds or both. It led to lively debate regarding who'd perform such a gesture and what would drive them to do so.

When they headed to the cafeteria for breakfast, their questions were answered.

Nicely decorated tables and plates full of food greeted them. There were bowls containing fruit, hot chocolate packets and cream and sugar. There were several boxes of donuts and breakfast pastries. There was soft music playing overhead. And greeting them were Falcon and Fox, clad in cooking attire.

"Wow," Luigi said finally. "You did all of this?"

"Yes," Fox said solemnly. "We hope you like it."

Kirby's mouth watered. "Poyo," he said dreamily.

"Would Jiggs, Ness and L come with me?" asked Falcon. "I have something special for them."

Ness and Jiggs sneaked a quick look at Luigi, who nodded, his vigilant stare fixed on the good Captain. Silently, they followed the Captain to a small, private room, where an amazing sight greeted them.

"Whoa," gasped Ness.

The four walls were each painted a specific color to represent the four secret fighters. Gold for Captain Falcon, blue for Ness, pink for Jiggs and green for Luigi. On the circular table waited four plates of cheesy omelets and chocolate chip pancakes. In the center sat some butter and four flavors of pancakes syrup. There was also a variety of beverages to choose from, from milk to juice to smoothies. On the different colored walls hung mementoes of each unlockable's home world. Mute City. Big Blue. Onett. Fourside. Pokémon Stadiums and Gyms. Certain landmarks in the Mushroom Kingdom. Even the New York City skyline, the Met and the Apollo Theater. Happy music played from a CD player resting beside the open window.

On a far table sat a cake, with toppers in each of the four's likenesses. It was a half-sheet of cake in the shape of the Smash symbol, created in orange, blue, pink and green frosting. Beside it rested a cake cutter, cake server and four plates.

"Oh, my gosh," Luigi said finally. "It's beautiful."

"Thanks," said Falcon. "It wasn't easy, you know."

"I can make myself right at home here," warbled Jiggs.

"And you even brought pictures of the Runaway Five?" breathed Ness. "Do you have some of their albums?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," nodded Falcon. "Would you care to have a seat and help yourselves?"

"Sure," smiled Luigi as they all picked a place at the table to sit and dig in.

"I would like this to be a fresh start for the Formidable Four," Douglas said after a while. "In that craze with the tier list, I almost forgot what we stood for. But I've been thinking about it, and—I guess I've been a bit of an idiot."

Luigi, Ness and Jiggs cleared their throats in tandem.

"You were more than just _a_ _bit_ of an idiot," said Ness.

"We could barely stand to be around you," Luigi added frankly.

"Fine—I was a complete idiot," relented Falcon, "but cross my heart and hope to die, that piece of paper will never interfere with the Formidable Four again."

"What do you say, L?" asked Ness. "Should we believe him?"

"It depends," replied Luigi. "He _did_ say and do plenty of hurtful things, especially to me, that shouldn't be overlooked."

"I regret that I ever did them," said Falcon. "Just tell me how I can rectify things with you guys."

"How about getting back in the game and helping us show those eight back there what secret fighters can really do?" suggested Luigi.

"Yes!" Tear prickled at Falcon's eyes, tears of joy, which he flicked away. "We can shake up this tournament! The Formidable Four is back, baby!"

"You can bet your Blue Falcon it is," smiled Luigi.

Luigi, Falcon, Jiggs and Ness formed a huddle and then stacked their hands in a show of team spirit.

"Formidable Four, always and forever!" they cried.

* * *

Meanwhile, Fox was giving a similar speech to Mario, DK, Link, Samus, Yoshi, Kirby and Pikachu. He was so nervous that he found himself stumbling over words. His audience just gazed at him evenly, occasionally leveling forkfuls of food into their mouths.

"What Falcon and I are trying to say," Fox told them, "and I don't know how to find the right way for it, is…"

Falcon suddenly sidled over and put an arm around Fox. "We're sorry," he stated with finality, "about everything. We were foolish and stupid, and we really miss you hanging around with us."

That was the icebreaker. It was what they all wanted to hear for so long. Everyone in the cafeteria began to applaud the duo and make gestures of forgiveness and reconciliation.

Then, Samus was in front of Falcon, helmet off, face expressionless. The racer cupped the Space Warrior's face in his hands. "Sammy, I…"

She shushed him. "I know," she said quietly. They kissed and kissed and kissed.

A few moments later, Luigi, Ness and Jiggs emerged. Now, the twelve Smashers stood together, eyes twinkling with warmth and friendship, once again regarding each other as equals.

"All these months ago, we were strangers meeting for the first time," intoned Luigi. "Now, we're like a family. We _are_ a family."

"He's right," added Mario. "Once the Original Twelve, always the Original Twelve. No matter what."

"Amen," smiled Link.

"Okay," said Ness, placing his hands on his hips and nodding.

"Let's promise never to let some piece of paper come between us again," said Fox.

"I promise," said Douglas.

"Pika," said Pikachu.

"Poyo," added Kirby.

One by one, the Smashers promised to maintain their special, new bond by any means necessary.

Through a crack in the door, Master Hand observed the scene, his eyes misting over with pure happiness. That tier list had put these new friendships to the test, but in the end, the Original Twelve had found their way back to each other.

 **End Book 1**

* * *

 **Monkey999Boy: Not many guests faithfully follow my stories. Thank you.**

 **SolarEnergy07: I know, things were pretty shaky for a while, but Fox and Falcon finally pulled through. For a while, at least, in Fox's case. Stay tuned.**

 **This story doesn't run in complete chronological order. I will jump back and forth in time. Just so you'll know...**

 **Reviews are appreciated!**


	12. Kronos Unveiled: Resurgence

**Kronos Unveiled: Resurgence**

 **Warning: Spoilers for LiR2016 ahead! Read through Ch. 14 of that story to better understand this chapter.**

 _Seventeen years later_

Master Hand was seated at his desk, gazing sternly at the seven Smashers seated before him. Time had slowed down for him since he, accompanied by his brother, Crazy Hand and their father, Master Core, had sneaked a peak at Luigi's laptop computer. The reason? A bullying pandemic had erupted on Miiverse, Nintendo's social networking site, with Luigi as the primary target. By skimming over Luigi's profile, Master had hoped to gain not only closure but also an insight to why Luigi reacted so—violently—to his tormentors.

Instead, Master, Crazy and MC had made a startling discovery.

Luigi's Miiverse posts, translated from Italian, held so much anguish to them. The presence of all caps, exclamation marks and italics had prompted the trio to input the translate command. Who knew that the quiet and timid Mario Bro could use such strong language in his posts? After viewing some particularly angsty posts from the Brawl era, which bore semblance to Luigi's first "true power", MC postulated that such online venting dated back even further. And he was correct.

One by one, Master Hand read all of Luigi's spirited, aggressive and blistering blog posts from 1999, observing that this tone wasn't present until the day he put the tier list up. He'd waged an all-out war against that piece of paper, attacking it as an underhanded scheme to fray the bonds of friendship between the Smashers and to establish a "pecking order" which would govern their daily lives. Each word punched Master Hand in the heart as he remembered seeing the expression on Luigi's face change from excitement to disbelief and finally devastated outrage when he saw the tier list, walking in on him crying and pounding the walls of his room, seeing him light into his opponents during his matches and hearing violent sobs and scribbling sounds. He'd wished to God he'd talked to Luigi, but since he was being so strong for Samus, DK and Link—

He'd never forget one particular post as long as he lived. It was the first tier list itself, an exact copy of it, with a thick, diagonal black line slashed through each slot on the S through B tiers. He'd left his fellow C-tiers alone, but he'd marked his own brother and the adorable puffball from Dreamland! Being last place must've really damaged Luigi. Looking at that post and reflecting on past events, Master knew there was no question—the bullying had to start with that list. After calling a meeting, confronting the Smashers on who and who didn't participate in the harassment and announcing the temporary shutdown of Miiverse, he'd summoned Pikachu, Kirby, Captain Falcon, Fox, Yoshi, Jigglypuff and Mario to his office, hoping to find out if they'd done something, inadvertently or not, to set Luigi off.

"I appreciate you seven coming down here," Master Hand said once the seven were situated.

"Mamma mia," shuddered Mario. "I'm really starting to feel like we're in trouble."

"Poyo?" questioned Kirby.

"No, Kirby. This isn't about how you frequently raid the pantry," said MH.

"Master Hand, can you please tell us what's going on?" asked Mario.

"In the court of law, you're innocent until proven guilty, and that's no different here," MH began, "so, no matter what you hear about Smash and Miiverse becoming a hideout for cyberbullies, trolls and the like, there's no reason to fret—unless, of course, you have something to hide."

"I've got a date with all-you-can-eat lobster tails, Master Hand," Fox broke in. "What exactly does this have to do with us?"

"The answer lies in this piece of paper." And with a snap of his fingers, MH unveiled the first tier list.

The room exploded into chaos. Projectiles arced across the room and assailed the tier list amidst a chorus of boos, hoots, whistles and catcalls.

"POYOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

"FALCON—CRINGE!"

"JIGGLYYYYYYYYY!"

"YOSHIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"

"PIKAAAA!"

"Mamma F—er!"

"Oh, dear God, no!"

"Everybody settle down," said MH. "I know that this wasn't—and still isn't—very popular."

"Yeah, you think?" snapped Fox. "This is bringing back some unwanted memories!"

MH gave the vulpine a pointed look. "Unwanted memories, you say? Out of guilt, perhaps?"

Falcon continued to cringe. "My eyes! My eyes!"

"Oh, come on; it's not that bad," grumbled MH.

Kirby buried himself against Mario's chest, muffling his tiny "poyo"-ing.

"What in Star's name does— _that_ —have to do with anything?!" Mario demanded of MH as he sought to comfort the Star Warrior.

"I now have reason to believe that this lovely piece of paper was the root of all this nonsense," explained MH.

"Miiverse didn't exist back then!" objected Douglas. "All we had was dial-up and blogging!"

"I'm not just talking about the current situation," MH revealed. "Based on my observations, as soon as I put up this thing, tension arose among the fighters. One of my Smashers has complained of being constantly teased over his placement on this list. And _this_ is what he's done to it."

MH snapped his fingers again, revealing the copy he'd found on Luigi's old blog page, everyone from the S tier to the B tier slashed through with a black marker.

Immediately, the silence erupted into curses, yells, blasphemes, questions and exclamations of "Yoshi", "Pika" and "Poyo".

Mario raised his voice, silencing his companions. "Well, wasn't this expected?!" he challenged. "Don't you think that maybe the tier list was some sort of tricked-out conspiracy to encourage competitive, and dare I say hostile, attitudes among us?! On the first day, we could hardly wait to know each other! Sure, we were beating each other up, but after the battles were done for the day, we genuinely enjoyed each other's company. But then that tier list showed up, and that was when something really went awry in the happy-go-lucky world of Nintendo! Mamma mia! I'm glad it's gone!

"Well, that makes two of us," MH stated briskly. "Make that _three_ of us, since the Smasher in question had made a similar accusation against it, minus the conspiracy part."

Mario rubbed his temples. "Look, B tier isn't boast-worthy, all right? Jiggs and I can testify to that. And furthermore—why do you think one of us would do something like that?"

"Well, whoever did this would think so," MH shot back. "What else explains the obvious determination to beat you all?"

"Master Hand, we've all had our bad days," interjected Falcon, "but this…"

"I've also observed that the higher-ranked ones grew cocky for a while. It was fine to be happy over your rankings, but most of you took that to the extreme, and it took some embarrassing moments to cure you of your overconfidence."

"Hold up—are you calling us bullies?!" balked Fox. "Who do you think you are?!"

"Gee, you're one to talk," Mario said to him, "seeing your behavior in Melee, Mr. 20XX!"

"Mario, I assure you, those days are behind me," sighed Fox.

"That's because you got nerfed," shrugged Jiggs.

"Yeah, and because I noticed how I was pushing you guys away," said Fox.

"Hmm, sound familiar?" asked Mario.

Falcon shifted his feet as the memories came back to him. "Well—whoever did this was obviously in the C tier," he said finally.

Mario swiveled toward him. "Well, whoever did this _obviously_ couldn't catch a break from it," he said, the edge in his voice cutting like a razor. He brushed Master Hand away as he tried to calm him. "Whoever did this was _obviously_ teased, mocked, shamed, demoralized and dehumanized on a daily basis. Whoever did this was _obviously_ considered useless and worthless. Whoever did this _obviously_ had a boatload of pent-up frustration inside of him."

"Poyo, poyo, poyo!" Kirby chimed in.

Pikachu stared at the floor. "Pika," he murmured.

Mario scratched Pikachu behind the ears. "You have nothing to worry about. There wasn't any tension between you two until Melee, and you managed to get past that."

MH was frozen. "W-wait. How—how did you know…?"

Jumpman jumped to his feet. "Because I saw it happen! Because I tried to do something about it! And you have the gall to stand there and accuse _me_ of harassing my own brother because of some stupid piece of paper?!"

"Mario, calm down at once!" ordered MH. "I'm not accusing you of anything! I'm giving you a chance to confess before the truth surfaces on its own!"

The red-capped hero sank back into his chair and spread his hands. "Aside from the occasional sibling rivalry and playfully competitive spirit—I've got nothing to hide," he said. "I apologize for my outburst. I…"

"We'll discuss that later," MH broke in.

"Yoshi," Yoshi said softly.

"He's right. He'd never hurt his 'mama'," Mario said softly.

"Even if we _did_ let it get to our heads, he eventually forgave us," said Fox.

"Yeah! As you can see, we're as thick as thieves now!" added Falcon.

"Poyo!" chirped Kirby.

"No, you were never one of them," smiled Mario, hugging Kirby.

"C'mon, M—that puffball didn't know what it was," eyerolled Fox.

Kirby glared. "Poyo, poyo!"

"He knew enough to know what being kicked to the bottom meant," Mario put in.

"Trust us, Master Hand," summed up Falcon. "We'd never harm a hair on his head."

MH wasn't so sure…

* * *

The glove lined them up in a small room, Pikachu first, Mario last. Each held a sign with a number from one to seven, denoting their positions on the first tier list. MH set up the equipment as the seven protested.

"What are we doing here? I feel like a criminal!" yelled Fox.

"This won't take long," MH assured them. "Now, starting with Pikachu, I want you all to step forward and say something. Anything. It's that simple."

Pikachu scampered forward with an adorable "Pika-pika!" and a wave.

Kirby puffed forward a few times. "Hii!" he said, waving his appendages.

Captain Falcon strode forwards, saluted and said, "Show me ya moves!"

Fox was next. "Do a barrel roll!" he exclaimed.

Yoshi shuffled forward with a "Yoshi, Yoshi!"

Jiggs took a few puffs forward and warbled, "Puff! Jigglypuff!"

At last, Mario strode forward, hopped up and landed in a strongman pose. "Here we go!" he interjected.

"Thank you. Now, smile!"

The seven held up their placards and posed as MH snapped a few photos of them. When he was satisfied, he said, "We'll continue this investigation tomorrow. But for now, you are dismissed. Mario—I'm gonna need your help."

"Of course," said Mario.

As the seven made their exit, they knew that although things had changed in the course of seventeen years, time didn't heal all wounds…

 **Please R &R.**


	13. S Tier Interviews: Pikachu

**S Tier Interviews: Pikachu**

 **Boldface: Master Hand**

Normal: Interviewee

 _Italics: Mario_

* * *

 **Please, state your name for the record.**

Pikachu!

 **Okay, Pikachu, I will now ask you some simple questions, and I would like you to answer two "Pika"s for "yes" and one "Pika" for "no". Are you ready to begin?**

Pika pika!

 **Pikachu, is it true that you were on the S tier in the first tournament?**

Pika-pika.

 **Were you ranked first on the tier list?**

Pika-pika.

 **In the course of the first tournament, have you ever felt happy and proud to be at the top?**

Pika, pika.

 **Did you ever feel superior to your fellow Smashers at any point in 1999?**

Pika.

 **Were there any tensions between you and the lower-tier fighters in 1999?**

Pika.

 **Based on your ranking in 1999, did you feel that your wins were guaranteed?**

Pika.

 **Have you ever felt or displayed saltiness in the event of a loss in 1999?**

Pika!

 **Did you try to use someone as a scapegoat in the event of a loss in 1999?**

Pika!

 **And did you ever feel immune to losing at any time during the first tournament?**

Pika!

 **Mario, do you bear witness to what Pikachu has said?**

 _Yes, I do._

 **Thank you, Mario. Now, Pikachu, these next questions will focus on your relationship with a certain fighter on the roster. I would like you to respond as truthfully as you can.**

 _And remember, nobody is accusing you of anything._

Pika pi!

 **Pikachu, Mario told me that you hit it off quite well with Luigi. Is that true?**

Pika, pika.

 **Did that change when the tier list was released?**

Pika.

 **Did you believe that Luigi was useless on the battlefield because he was ranked last?**

Pika.

 **Is it true that your friendship with Luigi survived after the tier list was put up?**

Pika, pika.

 **Did you ever poke fun at Luigi regarding your respective rankings?**

Pika.

 **Did you ever bring up the fact that you were polar opposites in battle against him?**

Pika.

 **Did you ever sense that Luigi's low ranking adversely affected his morale and self-perceptions?**

Pika, pika.

 **And did you try to console him?**

Pika, pika!

 **Is it true that you gave him free hugs on the day the tier list was put up?**

Pika, pika!

 **Did you think Luigi was a little guarded in interacting with you?**

Pika, pika.

 **In succeeding days, did you notice Luigi starting to recover from seeing his position on the list?**

Pika, pika.

 **In succeeding days, did you notice Luigi beginning to fight back from the negative connotations associated with his low ranking?**

Pika, pika.

 **Have you ever thought that Luigi wasn't staying in his place?**

Pika!

 **Were you glad that Luigi was sticking up for himself?**

Pika, pika!

 **Did you condone Luigi's reaction to an insult directed at him by a higher-ranked fighter?**

Pika, pika.

 **And did you condone the actions Luigi took against the tier list itself?**

Pika, pika!

 _Master Hand, Pikachu has introduced for your inspection a colored-pencil drawing of him and Luigi, dated a few weeks after you put up the tier list. As you can see, they are very friendly and loving, and no competition has arisen between them. I also bear witness to what Pikachu has told you._

 **Pikachu, do you certify that your answers are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

Pika, pika.

 **Mario, do you verify that Pikachu's responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

 _Yes, I do._

 **I would like to thank both of you for the time you put in today. Pikachu, you are dismissed.**

* * *

 **Please review.**


	14. S Tier Interviews: Kirby

**S Tier Interviews: Kirby**

 **Boldface: Master Hand**

Normal: Interviewee

 _Italics: Mario_

* * *

 **Thank you for taking the time to come here, Kirby. I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I would like you to answer with two "poyo"s for yes and one "poyo" for no. Can you do that for me?**

Poyo, poyo!

 _And don't worry. We're not here to accuse you of anything. We just need to shed some light on past situations._

 **Thank you for that, Mario. Okay, here we go. For the record, is your name Kirby?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Are you a Star Warrior?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Do you hail from the city of Dreamland on the planet Popstar?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Is it true that you were ranked second alongside Pikachu on the S tier?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Is it true that you two were close for the duration of the first tournament?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **For the duration of the first tournament, did you feel happy and proud to be ranked so high?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Did you feel superior to the lower ranked Smashers at any point in 1999?**

Poyo!

 _Kirby, take it easy. You're not being put on trial._

 **Were there any tensions between you and the lower ranked fighters?**

Poyo.

 **Did you ever assume that your high ranking would mean an instant win?**

Poyo.

 **Did you ever react negatively to a loss in 1999?**

Poyo.

 **Did you ever feel that you could never lose a match against a lower-ranked fighter?**

Poyo.

 **Mario, is there anything you'd like to say before I move on to the next batch of questions?**

 _No, except that I bear witness to Kirby's responses as true._

 **Okay, Kirby. I'm now going to ask you questions which are specifically aimed toward your relationship with a certain Smasher on the roster. Are you ready?**

Poyo, poyo!

 _Just don't worry about what will happen if we find something against you. Just answer as truthfully as you can._

Poyo, poyo.

 **Kirby, is it true that you maintained a very close relationship with Luigi?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Is it true that you offered him free hugs and tried to comfort him when the tier list came out?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Is it true that on the day in question you tried to get everyone back together with ice cream sundaes?**

Poyo, poyo.

 _Master Hand, I would like to introduce Kirby's Exhibit A. It is a photograph taken on the day in question which shows ten of the twelve fighters, including myself, disregarding our rankings and enjoying ice cream together._

 **And has the Smash Photographic Department verified this photo as genuine?**

 _Yes, it has._

 **Thank you, Mario. Kirby, I would like for you to study this photograph. Do you see Luigi in it?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Do you see yourself?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Do you notice that two of the original Smashers are missing in this photo?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **And was that because they were considered "too good" for everyone else?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Based on your ranking with respect to Luigi's, did you ever think that he'd be easy to defeat?**

Poyo.

 **Based on Luigi's ranking, did you ever believe him useless and/or unable to fight?**

Poyo.

 **Did you ever use your ranking with respect to his to torment, provoke or otherwise harm his self-esteem?**

Poyo! Poyo, poyo, popoyo…

 _Relax. You're fine._

 **In the days following the release of the tier list, did you observe its negative effects on Luigi's morale and self-esteem?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Is it true that you always showed up for his matches to encourage him, except for when you were engaged in a match yourself?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Was he guarded in his interactions with you?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Have you ever thought that he wasn't staying in his place when he challenged the negative connotations of his low ranking?**

Poyo.

 **Were you happy to see him sticking up for himself?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **On the night after the first tier list was released, Luigi reacted quite strongly to an insult directed at him by a higher ranked fighter. Did you condone and do you still condone that strong reaction?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **In the succeeding days, Luigi began to take increasingly drastic actions against the tier list entirely. Did you condone and do you still condone those actions?**

Poyo, poyo.

 _Master Hand, I will now introduce Kirby's Exhibit B. A printout of a post on our old Smash Blog, dated the 28_ _th_ _of July in the year of our Lord 1999. It reads as follows: "I don't care what that tier list says, Luigi is an excellent fighter and is as skilled as my mentor, Sir Meta Knight. Please, leave him alone."_ _And there are some emoticons in there, as well._

 **Kirby, are those your words?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Mario, do you bear witness to the evidence you introduced?**

 _Yes, I do. Look, I followed his blog, so…_

 **That was a "yes or no" question, Mario.**

 _Yes._

 **Kirby, do you certify that your answers are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

Poyo, poyo.

 **Mario, do you verify that Kirby's responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

 _I do verify._

 **Kirby, once again, thank you for your time. You are dismissed.**

* * *

 **Please review!**


	15. A Tier Interviews: Captain Falcon

**A Tier Interviews: Captain Falcon**

 **TW: Mild violence and censored language**

 **Bold: MH**

Plain: Interviewee

 _Italics: Mario_

* * *

 **I appreciate you coming down here, Douglas.**

What's this about? Did I do anything?

 _That's for us to find out, Cap'n. Just answer the questions as best as you can._

Okay.

 **Please state your full name and occupation for the record.**

My name is Douglas Jay Falcon. I race for the F-Zero Grand Prix, in which, I might add, I won several trophies. I'm also a bounty hunter, and a darn good one at that.

 **How apt. So, Douglas, would you mind describing your relationship with the fighters before I put up the tier list?**

Sure! We were really tight with each other. Hanging around in the lounge, telling jokes and stories, sparring together—we were like family.

 **And what was your relationship after I put the tier list up?**

Are you kidding? I was up there with the big dogs, the VIPs! I had no time for the lowly ones—at least, that was what I thought at the time.

 **You were ranked third on the A tier, is that correct?**

Yes.

 **And after I put the tier list up, is it true that you were closer to Fox than anyone else?**

Yes, I was. Is that a problem?

 _Don't be a wiseacre, Falcon._

 **Could you tell us how you felt to be a high tier fighter?**

Definitely! I was so happy. Being a secret character was kinda hard because I didn't think anyone would acknowledge my skills. But seeing my name so high up on that list was a shock, to be honest. I remember thinking: "I'm just a racecar driver and part-time bounty hunter with a mysterious past—and a hidden character, no less. Do I really deserve this?" But after a while, I was like: "Whoa, this feels pretty great." YES!

 _And you also felt pretty proud, yes?_

Yep. I did. I was so proud of myself and of Fox.

 **But an electric mouse and a pink puffball were ranked higher than you. Did you ever feel sore over that?**

Of course not. I felt like they were—part of the club. As a whole, we were—the top of the totem pole, so to speak.

 **Which brings me to my next question. Did you ever feel superior to the lower-ranked fighters seventeen years ago?**

Not really. No.

 _Then would you do us the favor of explaining this? Exhibit A—a photograph showing ten of the Original Twelve sitting at the table enjoying ice cream together. Both you and Fox are absent in this photo. Why do you suppose that is?_

What? We're not allowed to have some male bonding time?

 _Male bonding time? Then allow me to introduce Exhibit B—witness testimony stating that you and Fox spent days afterward in one or the other's room, playing 2pac and other gangster rap at an obnoxiously high volume, getting drunk—and pulling pranks on some lower tiers._

 **Captain Falcon—is this testimony true?**

Oh, c'mon! It was all in fun!

 **Yes, or no, Douglas?**

[Exasperated sigh] Yes. Hey, what's the big idea, anyway?

 _There's no need to get defensive, Cap'n. You're not being accused of anything—unless you did something you'd like to tell us about._

Okay, fine—so I boasted a little bit to the lower-ranked fighters. No harm, no foul, right?

 _We'll see._

 **Mario, I've got this handled. Douglas, it would be a good idea to answer our questions honestly. That way, we'll be more convinced that you did nothing wrong. So, you** _ **did**_ **feel superior to the lower ranked fighters, is that correct?**

[Sigh, eyeroll] Yes, I did.

 **Why did you feel superior?**

Because—well because—I felt I could win over them all. Fox and I were the predators, and the lower-ranked ones were the prey.

 _That's what I thought you'd say. This is Exhibit C, an eyewitness account on the day in question. According to this eyewitness, the ten Smashers in the photo presented in Exhibit A were enjoying the ice cream sundaes Kirby provided for them when you and Fox quite loudly barged in. You then said something about "saving some ice-cream for the winners" while Fox proclaimed that it was "time to celebrate". Upon being offered an ice cream sundae each, you declined, saying, and I quote, "Pfft, it you want those sundaes, then you can have them! I see some bad apples in this bunch, and I don't want to hang around with them."_

 **Did you say that, Douglas?**

Every word.

 **When you said "bad apples", to whom were you referring?**

Nobody in particular.

 **The account Mario has introduced also states that you and Fox shared nachos together. Is this true?**

Yes. Nothing wrong with sharing nachos, is there?

 _Falcon, are you gonna get smart or are you gonna help us by answering our questions?_

How can I help you if I don't even know where you're headed with these questions?

 **Don't worry. You'll figure it out soon enough. Now, based on your ranking, I would like you to rank your perceived likelihood of winning from 1 to 10, with 1 being the least likely and 10 being the most.**

Erm—I say—8.

 **Now, with the same system, I would like you to rank your perceived immunity against a loss to a lower-tier fighter.**

10\. Definitely.

 **Douglas, is it true that you once reacted badly to a loss in a Team Battle involving lower tier fighters in 1999?**

Yes.

 **Would you care to tell us a little about that?**

It was a Team Battle, me and Samus vs. Ness and Kirby. Sammy and I were good at our craft, and I thought we could take them. Before the match, I kinda got Ness riled up, with him being in the C tiers and all. Yeah, Sammy was in the C tiers, too, but I was crazy about her. Anyway, the match started, and I thought we had it in the bag, y'know, because of me being A tier. Well, I spent most of the fight goading Ness and being a show-off while Sammy did most of the fighting. Our opponents tended to pressure her, and I should've helped her, but—I was just too busy acting like I was everything. Well, long story short, we lost. I was extremely angry and wanted someone to blame, and Sammy, unfortunately, drew the short straw. I felt like a real jerk afterwards.

 _Well, you should've!_

 **Mario, calm down.**

 _I'm sorry. I just…_

 **I understand. Douglas, what did you say to Samus?**

I—I essentially blamed her for the loss. She looked ready to punch me in the face after I said those things. I tried to apologize, but she just stormed off. That night, I bought her flowers, but after that day, things weren't really the same between us.

 **Is it true that you finally saw the error of your ways and apologized to everyone?**

Yes. Sammy even decided to give me another chance.

 **Mario, is there anything you'd like to add before we move on to the next batch of questions?**

 _All I have to say is that I hope Douglas is more forthcoming during these next questions._

 **Douglas, these next questions will focus on your relationship with specific fighter. Please, answer these to the best of your ability.**

Okay. I guess I don't have a choice.

 _No, you don't._

 **Mario, that's enough.**

[ _Sigh, muttering_ ]

 **Douglas, is it true that you identified with Luigi as a fellow hidden character?**

Yes.

 **Is it true that you, Jigglypuff, Ness and Luigi referred to yourselves as the Formidable Four?**

Yes.

 **Is it true that prior to the tier list, you were a close-knit group?**

Yes.

 **And is it true that after the tier list, you began to disregard them based on their rankings?**

[Sigh] Yes.

 **Luigi in particular?**

Yes.

 **And why did you spurn Luigi, after everything you've done together up till that point?**

Because—he was last.

 **Mario, I can see it coming. Don't even think about it. Now, Douglas, is it true that you were playing Twister with your fellow unlockables on the day in question?**

Yes.

 **And after you saw the tier list, did the four of you go on any more outings together?**

No.

 **On the day in question and on the following days, is it true that you and Fox began taking shots at Luigi for being bottom tier?**

Yes, but—

 **Is it also true that you were among those mocking him online and in the stands?**

Now wait just a minute—

 _Answer the question, Falcon!_

Well, then I plead the Fifth. How's that for an answer?

 **Douglas, watch your tone. Is it true that you recorded a match in which Luigi was defeated by a higher-tier fighter?**

Yes.

 **What did you intend to do with the recording?**

I dunno.

 _Oh, I really think you do. You were going to put it online or otherwise exhibit it in public, weren't you?_

Hey, back off me, man.

 _Weren't you?!_

Yes, and I was gonna show it to everyone in the Mushroom Kingdom and in my universe, too! What do you want me to say?!

 **All right, settle down. Did you, in any way, use your ranking with respect to Luigi's to hassle him or otherwise harm his self-esteem?**

Master Hand, you gotta understand, it was all in fun! I didn't mean to hurt the poor guy!

 **All in fun? Then explain to us Luigi's strong reaction to some words you said to him the night after I put up the tier list. Was that also "all in fun"?**

Now see here, Master Hand—

 _Now introducing Exhibit D—an eyewitness account of the events at the Smash Lounge on the night in question. The patrons were relaxing and having good old time, when_ you _showed up, drunk off your—_

 **Mario…**

 _Well, you get what I mean. You entered the Smash Lounge in an obviously intoxicated state and proceeded to single out Luigi._

 **Douglas, is it true that you were drunk on the night in question?**

[Defeated sigh] Yes. Yes, I was.

 **How many drinks did you consume prior to entering the Smash Lounge?**

Oh, about seven or so.

 _The account here says that you drank way more than seven. It also says that you were accompanied by Fox, also intoxicated. The two of you had to physically support one another to stand._

 **Is that true, Douglas?**

Yes.

 _You then asked, and I quote: "Where is he, the last-place loser?", and then added, "You're the bottom of the food chain, buddy!"_

 **Falcon, did you say those words?**

I did.

 _The two of you continued to disrupt the lounge despite many patrons asking if you were drunk, warning you that the day's matches weren't over and threatening to get the bouncers. Fox said something along the lines of explaining "the pecking order" to someone. And then you, Falcon, turned on Luigi and called him a name!_

 **Did you, in fact, call Luigi a name, Douglas?**

I—yes.

 **And what did you call him, besides "the last-place loser"?**

I—I called him a—I called him a n—b.

 **And why did you call him that name?**

Look, I was drunk, okay? I didn't know what I was doing!

 _You did, according to this eyewitness. You told Luigi, and I quote: "You can't hide from us! Let's go! Let's see how low you are!"_

 **And what happened then, Douglas?**

Luigi drank the last of his beverage, put down his glass, got up and stared me down.

 _Upon which you challenged him to "settle this like men—if you're even capable of doing that"._

 **Douglas Jay Falcon. Is all of this the truth?**

Y-yes. I did it. I said those things to Luigi. I set him off, and blows were exchanged. Lots of them.

 **And is it also true that you and Fox pulled copious bathroom pranks on Luigi in the succeeding days?**

We did. Like I said, all in fun!

 _Then would you mind justifying the_ anger _and_ rage _I saw in Luigi's eyes? Or his shrieks as he fell victim to said pranks? Did it look like he was having fun to you?!_

 **Mario, I know you're upset, and you have every right to be. But getting hostile won't get answers.**

 _[Sigh] I guess you're right. Carry on._

 **Douglas, it was only after you were defeated by Luigi with him doing absolutely nothing that you began to see the error of your ways, is that correct?**

Yes.

 **Prior to that match, did you believe him useless and/or unable to fight?**

[Pause] Yes. I didn't think he would fight very well.

 **When Luigi began challenging the negative connotations of being last, did you think he was stepping out of line?**

No.

 _So, let me get this straight. He beats the [_ bleep _] out of you in the lounge, he beats you up in several notable matches, and still you think he can't fight if it'll save him?_

Kinda.

 _You sick [_ bleep _]! He trusted you, he offered you his friendship, and as soon as that list showed up, you threw it all in his face—just because you considered yourself cooler than him!_

 **Mario, for God's sake! I know how affected you are by Falcon's actions, but if he contends that he didn't mean it…**

 _Then why didn't he apologize?!_

Okay, let's get something straight here! I _did_ apologize! More than once!

 _Only for you to do it again, am I right?_

I can explain—

 _You just couldn't get enough of doing those pseudo-disgusting things in the bathroom. You couldn't get enough of his yelps and you wanted to hammer in the fact that you're still higher on the tier list! You wanted revenge for him trouncing you in public in that lounge!_

 **He makes a good point, Falcon. If you keep doing it, then how effective are your apologies?**

I just wanted to have fun, don't you understand?

 _Then why not try them on Kirby and Pikachu? Weren't you scared of retaliation because they were on a higher tier than you? Why the C tiers, and especially Luigi?_

 **Douglas, did you observe Luigi growing increasingly distant from you following the stunt you pulled?**

Yes.

 **Did you at least take it as a sign that you were hurting and/or upsetting him?**

Well, to be honest, at the time, I was in my own little world—and I could care less what he was thinking or feeling, so—

 _You kept doing it, because you enjoyed it, didn't you?! You bullied him, didn't you?! [Tackles interviewee and begins angrily beating him with his fists] You bullied him! You hurt him! You broke him! You made him feel like [_ bleep _]! Some friend you turned out to be! How do you live with yourself?! [Etc.]_

 **[pulls Mario away] Mario Jumpman! Wait outside for me in the hall!**

 _[sobbing, door slamming]_

Gee, what's _his_ problem?

 **Fear not. I will discuss this outburst with him after this interview. Now, I have a few more questions for you.**

Ask away.

 **After he beat you by doing absolutely nothing, did he remain guarded in his interactions with you despite you taking steps to reform your attitude?**

Yes.

 **Is it true that you sought to reconcile the Formidable Four by treating them to breakfast?**

Yes.

 **To accomplish this, did you usher Jiggs, Ness and Luigi to a special room with memorabilia from their respective home universes?**

Yes.

 **And did you offer an apology to your fellow secret fighters?**

I did.

 **Are you saying that you regret your behavior toward Luigi during the majority of the first tournament?**

Deeply.

 **If you were in Luigi's situation, then would you have reacted the same way as he did on the night in question?**

I'm not sure. Am I in trouble?

 **We'll see. But for the time being, I suggest you go to Luigi and talk to him about what went down seventeen years ago. You two are close friends nowadays, yes?**

We are.

 **But I don't think he's truly forgotten about it. There may be moments, late, late at night, where he thinks about it. Time heals some wounds, but not all of them.**

Do you think confessing to him will help?

 **I can guarantee it. And perhaps a** _ **real**_ **apology, this time.**

You got it. And off the record, don't go too hard on Mario. I—I deserved that. Every bit.

 **Don't worry about it. Douglas, do you certify that your responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

I do. Can I please go now?

 **You are dismissed. But remember what I said about talking to Luigi.**

* * *

 **Reviews are appreciated!**

 **P.S.: Thank you, SmashKing24! Your review was as thorough as an Ebert film review. I honestly didn't think this story had such a depressing tone, tbh. And in my stories, I like to see Luigi sticking up for himself and fighting his own battles. But, everyone has their own interpretations on a story, so I'll take it. Maybe I'll review one of your stories in return. Or we could collab. That would be fun. Thanks again!**

 **-S.H.**


	16. A Tier Interviews: Fox McCloud

**A Tier Interviews: Fox McCloud**

 **You should know the key by now.**

 **TW: Censored language and brief violence**

* * *

 **Welcome. This should only take a minute.**

I'm gonna hold you to that.

 **O—kay. Please state your full name and occupation for the record.**

My name is Fox McCloud. I am the leader of the Star Fox mercenary team and chief protector of the Lylat System.

 **Okay, Fox, we're going to ask you a couple of questions about the first tournament. I would like you to answer honestly and to the best of your ability.**

Uh, okay.

 **I hope we don't have a repeat of Captain Falcon's interview.**

 _I make no promises._

 **Before we begin, Fox, I want you to know that you don't stand accused of anything—at least, not yet.**

All right. Will I be done before my next match?

 **Probably. Are you ready to begin?**

Yes, I am.

 **Fox, is it true that you were ranked fourth on the first tier list in 1999?**

Yes, right next to Captain Falcon.

 **Is it true that you were good friends with him?**

Yes, it is.

 **Is it true that you spent the majority of the tournament with Douglas Jay Falcon?**

Indeed, I did.

 **And is it true that you were exclusively in his company after the tier list came out?**

Yes.

 **Could you describe your relationship with the Smashers before the tier list?**

They were good people. The best friends I'd ever had. I was a little homesick at first; I missed my usual bantering with Falco. But then I got to know these cool characters from different universes and decided, hey, they're not too bad. They were strong fighters, all of them, and I was happy to challenge my skills against theirs.

 **Now, could you describe your relationship with the Smashers after the tier list?**

Gee, where do I begin? As soon as I saw the list, I felt that Douglas and I were—kindred spirits.

 _And the rest of us could drop dead, is that what you're saying?_

 **[Sigh] Mario…**

Don't worry about it. I get what he's feeling. I did some things that I'm not particularly proud of.

 _Then why did you do them?_

After the tier list came out, I felt—proud. Not only that, but also—more important than the other fighters. And I'm sure Falcon felt the same way, too. Maybe that's why we were drawn to each other. I mean, my first taunt consisted of me scoffing.

 **Let's focus on your relationship with the lower-ranked fighters. Did you feel superior to them during the course of the tournament?**

Yes.

 **And why is that?**

I was invited to a lot of social events. Bashes, galas, conventions, combo exhibitions—you name it. I actually got to neck with the S tiers, Pikachu and Kirby, which was an honor. I mean, the lower tiers didn't get that privilege.

 _Were you aware that Pikachu and Kirby were friendly with the lower tiers?_

Yes, Mario. I was. But at the time, I didn't see why. And now I do. They didn't want to break off their friendships.

 _So why did you?_

Being a mercenary and a hero—it kinda gets to your head sometimes.

 **Were there a lot of tensions between you and the lower-tiers in 1999?**

I could feel the tension. They were giving me the stinkeye—especially the C tiers. I knew that their guards were up.

 **That was actually my next question. How guarded were the lower-ranked in their interactions with you?**

Very guarded.

 **Could you rank that on a scale of 1 to 10?**

NEIN, NEIN, NEIN, NEIN, NEIN, NEIN! Oh, I'm sorry—9.

 **Uh—okay. I'm sure Mr. Game and Watch would approve of that. Now, where were we? Oh—did you exhibit saltiness in any way if you lost to a lower-ranked fighter?**

Not that I recall.

 _At this time, I would like to introduce Exhibit A—Link's handwritten testimony of a battle between you and him. This battle took place on Sector Z on September 23, 1999. According to this testimony, you spent the entire match talking down to Link, and while you were getting mouthy with him, you fell victim to the stage hazards and lost. During the awards ceremony, you refused to acknowledge your carelessness and threw a little hissy-fit similar to your friend Falcon's after he lost his Team Battle. Except that he had no teammate to take it out on. At one point, you said, and I quote: "The little elf boy was just lucky today. But I'll smoke him next time."_

 **Did you say that, Fox?**

Yes. Yes, I did.

 **And did you try to make a scapegoat out of someone if you lost a match to a lower-tier fighter?**

Yes, many times. I also tried to blame the stage hazards.

 _Well, there's some truth in that. Maybe if you weren't getting catty or cocky and had paid attention to those stage hazards…_

 **Mario…**

It's cool, Master Hand.

 **Fox, is it true that you felt invincible to losing, which is why you acted as stated in Link's written testimony?**

Yes.

 **Is it true that you displayed a contemptuous, condescending and dare I say bullying attitude toward the lower tiers in 1999?**

Y-yes.

 **And is it true that you eventually learned from your mistakes after losing to lower tier fighters?**

Yes.

 **Mario, is there anything you'd like to say before we move on?**

 _No, except that it was wrong for me to act like I did with Falcon. I was just so—set off by his attitude, you know? Like—he didn't care. I at least hope Fox knows what he's done and respects himself enough to admit it._

Trust me, Mario, I'm a changed fox.

 _We'll see about that._

 **All right, Fox. These next questions will focus on your relationship with a particular fighter on the roster.**

Oh, boy.

 _Hey, relax. We're not gonna eat you—at least, not yet._

 **Describe your relationship with Luigi prior to the tier list.**

Okay, uh—well—Luigi and I were pretty tight in those halcyon days. He, Falcon, Ness and Jiggs would play Twister a lot, and I would be the one spinning the spinner and calling out, "Right hand this" or "Right foot that". We'd spend a lot of time in the library and the lounge, too. I liked him because he was loving and welcoming but also protective of his loved ones.

 **And when I put that list up, how did that change?**

I—Luigi wasn't my top priority anymore. Now that I was part of the elite squad, I had no business hanging around with mediocre fighters like him. I had Falcon, Kirby and Pikachu. L and I—we drifted apart after the tier list was released. I'm telling you, my chest was swollen, I felt like the popular kid in class—

 _And that's your excuse to throw Luigi under the bus?_

I'm not excusing it. It was just how I was. Young and foolish—

 _Save the dramatics, Fox, because I'm not having any of it._

 **Mario, do I have to ask you to leave again?**

 _[muttering]_

 **Fox, based on Luigi's ranking, did you think that he was useless on the battlefield?**

Of course I did! He was in last place! _Last freaking place!_ What good would he do in an epic gathering of warriors—except get in people's way! I watched his matches, and I could see why he was placed last—look how awkward and clumsy he was!

 _You're getting on my nerves, Fox._

 **Based on that reasoning, is it true that your friendship with Luigi fell astray in the weeks following?**

Yes.

 **Did you ever poke fun at Luigi over his tier rank with respect to yours?**

Yes. I scoffed at him, I thumbed my nose at him and I looked down on and talked down to him.

 **While engaged in a battle with him, did you bring up your tier rank with respect to his in any way?**

[Pause] Yes. One time. We were fighting on Sector Z, and I was losing badly. I called my team for help. I guess I got distracted, and Luigi knocked my earpiece from me before disarming me of my Blaster. It only got worse and worse until I was clinging to the ledge, badly damaged and on my last stock. I was angry and frustrated, and I—blurted something out.

 **What did you blurt out?**

I said, "No! I am _not_ losing to the worst character in the game!"

 _You DIDN'T._

I'm sorry, Mario. I'm sorry you had to find out like this. But I'm telling you, I didn't mean to say it. It—slipped out. And I'll never forget Luigi's eyes as long as I live. I hurt him terribly that day.

 _Yes, you did. And did you ever apologize? Did you?!_

Yes, of course, Mario! Geez, what is _with_ you?

 **Fox, you need to understand what Mario's going through right now. This is a lot to process.**

Like I said, Mario, I was young and foolish back then, and I regret what I did, every moment.

 **Did you ever sense that being last adversely affected Luigi's morale, self-esteem and likely his psyche?**

Like I said, I could care less about him, so—no.

 _How dare you! [lunges for Fox]_

 **[trying to restrain Mario] Get a grip or so help me I will suspend you for a month!**

 _Do I look like a give a [_ bleep _]_?!

 **No. No, you don't. But Fox, you were there when Luigi saw his ranking. You must've seen how upset he was. If you were friends, then did you at least try to console him?**

[hangs his head] I'm sorry. I was just too—caught up in my own ranking.

 _You didn't see his face crumple or the light die in his eyes. That unpleasant experience fell to me!_

Well, I'm sorry for that, too.

 _Oh, you're going to be._

 **Fox, you told us that you were close friends with Captain Falcon. Is it true that the two of you teamed up to pull bathroom pranks on Luigi?**

Yes, but they were fake. We didn't throw actual urine or feces on him!

 _Fake or not—you prided yourselves in tormenting him!_

We didn't want to torment him in any way! We were just having fun, all right?!

 _Oh, that's funny. Because Falcon said something along those lines when we were interviewing him!_

Well, it's true! We were having a good time and—

 _[jumps Fox and pummels him similar to what he did with Falcon] And you had your fun at Weegee's expense, didn't you?! You tortured him! You spat in his face and you turned your back on him when he needed you most! [continues punching Fox]_

 **[pulls Mario off] I've had enough! You are suspended for two weeks.**

 _Oh, you're treating me like the bad guy here? Who do you think you are?_

 **Four weeks.**

 _How about I quit?_

 **There are things in this tournament that only** _ **I**_ **should handle, Mario.**

 _That's not the lie you told me when you made me the spokesperson of Smash!_

 **You need to step outside and cool off. Immediately!**

 _[angry muttering, door slamming]_

 **In addition to helping Falcon pull off the bathroom pranks, did you condone Falcon's behavior toward Luigi that night in the lounge?**

I was drunk, so I have no way of telling you. If I was sober—probably not.

 **Is it true that you were held around the waist during the incident?**

Yes, by Mario.

 **If you had been sober, would you have condoned Luigi's reaction to Falcon's behavior?**

Maybe.

 **If you were in Luigi's position, would you have condoned that reaction?**

[ _Bleep_ ] right I would've.

 **And would you have condoned Luigi's later actions against the tier list itself?**

Yes, definitely.

 **One last question—is it true that you eventually made up with Luigi upon seeing the error of your ways?**

Yes, I did. And we've been close friends ever since.

 **Do you certify that your responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

I do.

 **Hey, Mario. You can come back in now.**

 _[door opening, footsteps]_

 **Is there anything you'd like to say to Fox?**

 _I shouldn't have exploded like that. I overreacted._

Yes, you did. But it was your right as an elder brother.

 **Okay, Mario. You're un-suspended. But if you want to continue assisting me, you have to keep it together. Can you do that for me?**

 _I'll try._

 **Don't try—do.**

 _Yes, Master Hand._

 **You are dismissed, Fox.**

* * *

 **The worst is over, thank goodness. Please review.**


	17. A Tier Interviews: Yoshi

**A Tier Interviews: Yoshi**

 **Yoshi, we're here to ask you some questions about the first tournament, very simple questions.**

Yoshi.

 **To reply, say "Yoshi" twice for "yes" and once for "no". Are you ready to begin?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Would you state your name for the record?**

Yoshi!

 **Are you a green, egg-laying dinosaur hailing from Yoshi's Island?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **In 1999, you were on the A tier, is that correct?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Is it true that you were ranked fifth out of twelve on the first tier list?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Did that ranking make you feel happy and accomplished?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Did it get to your head in any way?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you experience feelings of superiority and/or invincibility?**

Yoshi.

 **Were you conscious of any tension between you and lower-ranked fighters?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you associate your ranking with ease of winning?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you act salty if you lost?**

Yoshi.

 **Is it true that your fellow A tiers tried to pressure you into abandoning your friendships?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **And did you refuse to?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Here I have a chart of different facial expressions. I would like you to point to the face which best describes how you felt if you won a match.**

[points to happy face]

 _Let the record show that Yoshi has pointed to the happy face._

 **I will now ask you to point to the face which best describes how you felt if you lost a match.**

[points to neutral face]

 _Let the record show that Yoshi has pointed to the neutral face and thus wasn't upset by a loss_.

 **Finally, please, point to the face which best describes your feelings over the behavior of your fellow A tiers.**

[points to sad face, and then to angry face]

 _Are you saying you felt both?_

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **I'll take it. Mario, do you bear witness to what Yoshi has said?**

 _I do_.

 **Yoshi, this next set of questions will concern your relationship with a certain fighter on the roster. Are you ready to proceed?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **You and your brethren helped reunite and raise the Mario Bros, is that correct?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Historically, Luigi has had a nurturing relationship with you, is that correct?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Is it true that you love Luigi as a "mother"?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Did that change at all when I put up the tier list?**

Yoshi!

 **Could you show me on the face chart how you felt regarding Luigi's ranking?**

[points out sad, crying face]

 **Did he distance himself from you or act guarded toward you in succeeding days?**

[shrugs] Yoshi…

 **Kinda, sorta? I'll take it. Now, Yoshi, I know you and Luigi were close, but still—did you believe he was useless because he was last?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you think he was considered, in tournament-speak, "non-viable"?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you ever poke fun at him for being last?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you ever sense that Luigi's last-place rank adversely affected his morale, self-perceptions and self-esteem?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Did you suspect that said rank had also adversely affected his psyche?**

Yoshi…Yoshi.

 **Is it true that you tried to console him the day I put up that list?**

Yoshi.

 **In the following days, Luigi began to recover and fight back against the negative perceptions of being last place. Were you happy that he was doing this?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Did you ever think that he wasn't staying in his place?**

Yoshi.

 **Did you condone, and do you still condone, the action Luigi took against one of your fellow A tiers, who insulted him and called him a name?**

Yoshi, Yoshi!

 **Did you condone, and do you still condone, the action Luigi took against the tier list itself?**

Yoshi, Yoshi!

 **Yoshi, do you certify that your responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

Yoshi, Yoshi.

 **Mario, do you verify Yoshi's responses as the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

 _I do._

 **Yoshi, thank you for coming in to do this interview. You are excused.**

* * *

 **Reviews are appreciated!**


	18. B Tier Interviews: Jigglypuff

**B Tier Interviews: Jigglypuff**

 **Before we begin, could you please state your name for the record?**

I'm Jigglypuff, also known as Purin, Rondoudou and Pummeluff. I am a Fairy-type Balloon Pokémon from the Kanto region. So, are you here to interview me? Pikachu and Kirby kinda told me what to expect.

 **You'll be out of here before you know it, Jiggs.**

I'm still kinda nervous, though.

 **There's nothing to be nervous about. Unless, of course, you're keeping something from us.**

[nervous giggle]

 **First things first, I'm going to ask you some questions about your experience in 1999. Are you ready?**

Puff!

 **All right. Jiggs, how were you ranked on the tier list in the first Smash tournament?**

Sixth. Dead center. Not quite bad, but not very good, either.

 **Is that how you felt about your ranking?**

Yep. Being in the middle has its—challenges. You're—average. Ask my trainers back in Kanto and they'll tell you that I'm better than average.

 **Is it true that you were the top of the B tier?**

Yes, it is.

 **I'd like you to tell me if you felt you deserved to be ranked higher, and if so, why?**

Well, first of all, I'm one of the most kawaii Pokémon in the whole wide world. I have won many tournaments and gained the respect of other Trainers and Gym Leaders by fooling opponents with my adorableness. I Sing them to sleep before knocking them out with a powerful attack. And if my luck holds, then I can always Rest my way to victory. But I guess the list didn't rank cuteness—it ranked the ability to fight.

 **On a scale of 1 to 10, how upset were you by your ranking?**

Around a 4. It wasn't a big deal. I accepted it a fortnight later.

 **Jigglypuff, how were you treated before the tier list?**

I was treated well. Everyone really liked me. They sought my help from sleep problems, which I always remedied using my beautiful melodies. Mario here can attest to that, can't he?

 _Yes, I can._

 **And after?**

Oh, about the same. Save for two of them whose names I won't mention, thinking they were so much better than me.

 _I know who you're talking about, Jiggs._

 **Mario—**

I heard what happened. Mario, I understand how you feel, but you shouldn't have freaked out like that. You'll scare people. And Master Hand, cut Mario a little slack. After all, he's a brother protecting his sibling.

 **O—kay. Aside from those two Smashers, you weren't looked down upon, teased or snubbed?**

No, I wasn't.

 **You were also part of the Formidable Four, is that correct?**

Yes, it is. Until you-know-who deserted us.

 **How did that make you feel?**

Angry. I really wanted us back together.

 **Based on your ranking, did you feel like you couldn't win over the higher tiers?**

Not at all! I knew how to use Rest and Sing to catch them off guard.

 **What about the lower tiers? Did you feel like your wins were guaranteed whenever you faced one of them?**

No. I lost to a few of them, but—

 **That's my next question. Did you ever feel salty after losing to a lower-ranked fighter?**

No, but I was a little salty after a higher-ranked fighter beat me.

 _But you said you didn't—_

Let me explain. I wouldn't have minded so much if they didn't make a big song-and-dance over it.

 _I see._

 **So—I'm to understand that you didn't associate your ranking with winning or losing, but you got a little upset after losing to a higher tier because they teased you?**

Yes, Master Hand.

 **Were you—teased for being unlockable?**

Ah, just the usual "You're a secret character; we haven't unlocked you yet" stuff. But due to my hard work and training, I earned a lot of clout in surprisingly little time!

 **Thanks, Jigglypuff. Now, these next questions will focus on a specific fighter on the roster.**

I see where this is going. Well, here goes…

 **What were your first impressions of Luigi?**

Shy and clumsy, yet funny and smart. He brought the Formidable Four together.

 **He thought up of that nickname?**

Yes. We'd do lots of things together, like play board games, play Twister—stuff like that.

 **On the day I put the list up, you four were playing Twister, am I right?**

Yes. And Fox was calling out directions.

 **What happened then?**

We were all twisted up when Samus came in and told us the news. Fox dropped the spinner and sprinted out, and we untangled ourselves and followed him.

 **Did you see Luigi's reaction?**

…not at first. Being stuck in the middle kinda sideswiped me. But as I heard him cry out, I saw his ranking. I—couldn't believe it.

 **Did you suspect it would lead to the—breakup—of the Formidable Four?**

Goodness, no! I was trying to comfort Luigi and hoping that _he_ would join in. But, he didn't. He was with Fox, celebrating.

 **In succeeding days, did your feelings toward Luigi change or remain the same?**

They remained the same.

 **Did he distance himself from you, act guarded toward you, in anticipation of a rebuke?**

Uh—it's difficult to say. He still spoke to me, but _he_ was giving him a lot of trouble.

 **Based on your ranking with respect to his, did you believe he stood no chance against you?**

No, I did not.

 **Did you consider him "non-viable"?**

I don't even know what that is? Non-viable? It sure leaves a bad taste in my mouth, though. Puff!

 _It means next-to-useless in tournament play._

I—of course not! I draw on people with Sharpies, not belittle them!

 **Are you saying that you started drawing on Luigi with your Sharpie after the tier list was put up?**

That's not what I said. And I didn't think Luigi was non-viable—I still don't. Besides, the Sharpie thing started years ago!

 **You never poked fun at him for being last?**

No. How could I when I was the middle?

 _We're not accusing you of anything, Jiggs._

 **After I put the tier list up, did you notice that it was adversely affecting Luigi's self-esteem and morale?**

I'd find him crying sometimes. I'd find him racing out of the bathroom after a sick toilet prank. I'd see him in his room, decimating dummies. I'd come across him sparring with Mario or some unfortunate Polygon. I'd sit in the stands as he unleashed whatever he was feeling in his matches. He'd talk about what these people would do to him over lunch. It was pretty bad.

 _Even after I asked them all to knock it off?_

Yes, even after that.

 **Did you think it—also affected his psyche?**

I put people to sleep, not read their minds. But—yes, you could say so. Looking back on what happened then and what's going on now—I really think it hurt his psyche.

 **But then he began rising up against the conventions of being last. What did you think of that?**

Are you kidding? I was thinking, "Go get em, L!"

 **And eventually, the Formidable Four was reconciled?**

Uh-huh. It took Luigi beating _him_ by doing absolutely nothing for him to get his you-know-what together. He decorated a nice room for us, treated us to breakfast, and apologized. Now, Ness, Luigi and I weren't sure if we could forgive him, but we figured, why not give him another shot? And I'm glad we did. He really changed for the better.

 **Just a few more questions, Jiggs. On the night after I put the tier list up, there was a—violent—confrontation between Luigi and an A tier who was also one of the Formidable Four. Did you condone, and do you still condone, Luigi's reaction to the other party after he insulted him and called him a name?**

Oh, boy, do I!

 **And do you also condone the drastic action Luigi took against the tier list itself?**

Yep. It was getting on everyone's nerves.

 **You know, Jiggs, when I saw what Luigi did to that tier list, I couldn't help but notice that the scribbles resembled those from a certain brand of markers.**

Hmm.

 **The thickness, pattern and even the smell of the scribbles clearly pointed to not just any black marker, but a black Sharpie.**

Black Sharpie, huh? Which means…?

 _ **You're**_ **known to use a black Sharpie to stir things up after using Sing, Jigglypuff.**

Yeah? And it's never bothered you.

 **I'm just seeing an odd coincidence with this, Jigglypuff. Luigi erupted on the tier list exactly 25 days after you two had a friendly conversation in the hall. Oh, yes—I know what's going on in my tournament at any time. I'm the Hand of Creation, you know. And during that friendly conversation, there was a transaction which involved—one of your black Sharpies. Would you mind explaining the—correlation—between those two events, Jigglypuff?**

What do you mean?!

 **I mean, my dear Jiggs, is that it was you who lent Luigi that black Sharpie, which thus gave him the means to deface my tier list.**

Sharpies were very popular in the 90s, you know!

 **Did you or did you not give Luigi a black Sharpie so he could angrily cover the tier list in not only scribble but also bad words in his native language?**

 _Jiggs, please, answer the question._

[sings] Jigggggaaaalypuuuuff—Jigga-lyyyyyyy-alyyyyy-puuuuufff—

 **Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…**

 _Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…_

The answer to your question is—yes. And I'm not sorry.

* * *

 **Only one interviewee left...**


	19. B Tier Interviews: Mario

**B Tier Interviews: Mario**

 _So—I guess it's my turn to come under scrutiny, huh?_

 **Mario, I have every confidence that you meant him no harm—if you did anything. This is just standard procedure. Remember, there was a mark through your tier slot, too.**

 _Uh—okay—let's—get this over with._

 **All I'm going to do is ask you a few questions. It won't take long.**

 _Okeydokey._

 **Let's begin by having you state your full name and occupation for the record.**

 _Hello! It's-a me, Mario! Wah-hoo! I first started off as a carpenter, but then I moved on to the plumbing business after two years. Then, I rescued Peach for the first time and now proudly protect the Mushroom Kingdom. Oh, yeah! I also dabble as a doctor, as a boxing referee, as a wrecking crew member, as an all-around sportsman and as a circus trainer, although I prefer not to mention any part of that. A nickname most people like to call me is "Jumpman" because I'm very good at jumping. Whee-hee!_

 **All right, Mario, now I'm going to ask you some personal questions, because there are a few additional factors for me to take into consideration.**

 _Okeydokey—ask away._

 **How about providing me a brief sketch of your relationship with your brother? Starting from the beginning?**

 _Luigi and I were twins. I was born first, and he came along a few minutes later. We came into this world at University Hospital in Brooklyn, New York. Our parents were second-generation immigrants who worked their way to where they were at the time of our birth. As for our relationship, well, we developed in our_ mamma's _womb together, so I'll let you deduce from that. We were inseparable, napping in the same bassinet together, nursing together—and all of this is according to family stories. When one started to cry, so did the other. Of course, we eventually had to sleep in different beds, but for a while we were in the same room. During lights-out, we'd tell each other stories once we learned to talk. And before then, we were encouraging each other to learn how to walk. One time, I was struggling up and about to plop back down when he toddled over and grabbed onto my hand. It was like—us against the world in those days. Of course, there was the occasional scuffle over a toy or a cartoon or something like that—but we always made up in the end. I was sad when Luigi got a bedroom of his own—but he was growing up and needed his own space, you know?_

 **I see. So—you and Luigi grew up in Brooklyn, is that correct?**

 _Yes. We were very close to our_ mamma _. I could go on for days telling stories of her. She was very beautiful, more beautiful than the Princess. I remember Luigi and I helping her with the housework or cooking with her as swinging 40s standards or crooners or folk tunes played on the record player. The way she kissed away our boo-boos or bought gelato for us as a reward for good grades or punctual behavior or negotiated truces between us—ah, mamma mia. Those happy days in the kitchen with her—that's how we cook so good now. And she taught us to be strong—perhaps that's where Luigi's hidden strengths come from—_

 **It sounds like she loved you very much.**

 _She did. And we loved her even more. But then she was stolen from us—we were still so young—_

 **How did that affect your relationship with Luigi?**

 _We were around eleven years old. Between hearing the news and the funeral, we were kinda numb. But at the gravesite, as they started to lower her into the ground, something clicked, and we realized that she was—gone. We cried in each other's arms for so long. And we made a vow—that no matter what, we'd always take care of each other. We'd always be there for each other. And we'd always protect each other. Forever and ever, till the end of our games. Losing our mother strengthened our bond, and her nurturing, mama bear ways kinda rubbed off on both of us._

 **Is there anything you'd like to introduce into evidence at this time?**

 _Indeed. Exhibit A—a collection of our childhood photos. Here are our baby pictures, us being weighed, swathed and cuddled—our baptism into the Roman Catholic faith—taking our first steps—as terrible twos—in preschool—starting kindergarten and then real school—and here are all of our class yearbook photos—this is us in middle school—and now high school, and this is around the time we started growing our moustaches—our high school yearbooks—at the senior prom—at graduation—_

 **Mario—Mario—this really isn't necessary—**

 _Oh, I really think it is. Because I don't think you're grasping the depth of our relationship. Regrettably, Luigi was picked on as a kid, but for different reasons—sometimes for his weight and other times for his timid, awkward nature. But—I was also picked on for my weight, and we were both picked on for being Italian-Americans. We ran afoul of a lot of racist, prejudiced and hateful kids. But even though he was being teased, he wouldn't let anyone tease me and get away with it. One time in fourth grade, there was this loudmouthed boy named Mitchell. And while I was passing him, minding my own business, he—called me a derogatory term for Italians. Luigi overheard. And my question to you is—did Mitchell mess with me after that?_

 **Wow—**

 _Wow, indeed. And in the eighth grade, this whiny, stereotyped kid accused me of cheating on a test because I was—well, you know. Long story short, Luigi was sent home with a pink slip, which I thought was unfair. I mean, he really tongue-lashed that snob, but it was in my defense. I can name a plethora of times when he stood up for me as much as I stood up for him. We were brothers, for better or worse._

 **He got himself into trouble for you?**

 _Not that much trouble. I mean, the worst he got was detention, and that was for a minor scrap on the basketball court, in which, I might add, he acted in self-defense. He was walking away, and then the other kid got rough with him. But we both got him back when we pulled a little prank on him._

 **Brothers for better or worse—**

 _Exactly. And here we are at Colombia University, Luigi pursuing his Engineering degree while I was pursuing a Microbiology degree. I also studied Literature and Art; I was the captain of the fencing team. Luigi formed an engineering club and studied Arts and Crafts—he really loved working with his hands, rolling up his sleeves and getting sweaty and dirty. I think he boxed for a few years. Can't imagine him boxing, huh? Well, how else is he able to best Team Sonic at the Olympic Games? And—here are some home videos to further supplement what I'm trying to convey to you—_

 **I'll watch those later. Now—when did the trouble start?**

 _The trouble? As in our fame inequality?_

 **Was it after you crawled through a sewer pipe and into the Mushroom Kingdom?**

 _Before we go into that, you need a little background. I was a carpenter and a construction worker while Luigi was a mechanic at some steel works company. I was in love with Pauline and at odds with DK. L—he hadn't met anyone yet, and I guess he saw a little green whenever he saw me with Pauline on my arm. Around 1983, DK and I mended fences, I decided to quit the circus and my career as a carpenter was getting dull. I needed a change-up. Pauline and I decided that we were better off friends, and she met Stanley and soon married him. I was talking about it with Luigi, and he suggested that we become plumbers together. Plumbers! I said to myself, "Why not", and before you know it, we were deep in the sewers of the big apple, making sure everything worked properly. From the bottom up, you know. We were paid very well—Sal, our boss, made sure we were, because we had friends in the unions. So, this went on for about two years, and one ordinary day, we were drawn to this particular pipe, crawled through it, and laid eyes on the Mushroom Kingdom for the first time. We were roped into the effort to rescue Peach from the enemy Koopa tribe. Luigi and I put in equal effort, but when King Koopa was defeated—somehow—I got most of the acknowledgement, along with a kiss and a cake. And that's how Luigi wound up cast into my shadow, risking his life but getting almost zero credit._

 **It must've been frustrating for him.**

 _It was. Our relationship became complicated after that. Around 1986, we opened Mario Bros. plumbing and focused on household problems rather than sewage problems—paid the bills. We shared the credit for our plumbing jobs, but when Koopa returned again and again to get Peach and we thwarted him, he kept being left out. He was assigned the role of "Player Two", the sidekick, and that was when things became competitive between us. Especially when Peach started hosting those sporting events._

 **They provided an outlet for his frustration, didn't they?**

 _Yes, and I was happy that he was channeling those feelings for something productive. But it only remedied his situation a little. People began taking cracks at him for being in my shadow. Look at this photo. The two of us are playing a video game—I'm winning and he's losing. See how competitive we're getting?_

 **Overall, how would you sum up your relationship with your brother?**

 _I love my brother very much. I would die for him, and he would die for me. But the introduction of the Mushroom Kingdom and the rescue missions into our lives complicated things, and they continue to complicate things to this day._

 **If I may, I know a good family therapist who may be able to help you. I'll give you her number after this interview.**

 _Thanks, Master Hand._

 **Now, I'm going to ask you the questions I asked the others. Are you ready?**

 _Do I have to answer?_

 **Mario, is it true that you were ranked seventh on the first tier list and placed in the B tier?**

 _Yes, right next to Jigglypuff._

 **How did that make you feel?**

 _Astonished. I mean, after all I did to defend the Mushroom Kingdom, I half expected to be near the top._

 **Did you feel that the makers of the list didn't take your adventures into consideration?**

 _Yes._

 **And did you expect to be ranked higher because you're not only the hero of the Mushroom Kingdom but also Nintendo's mascot?**

 _Yes._

 **On a scale of 1 to 10, how upset were you by your ranking?**

 _6 or 7. But I got over it. I realized that I was still a good hero and a good fighter._

 **How were you treated prior to the tier list?**

 _Very cordially. I was well-known and well-liked. They respected my fighting style and couldn't wait to face me on the Battlefield. I mean, Link and I clashed a little, but it was over some trivial matter I've long since forgotten._

 **And after?**

 _It—was still relatively cordial. With the exception of_ those two _, the others still wanted to hang out with me._

 **Were you looked upon, teased or snubbed?**

 _Master Hand, those two didn't dare to try any of their stunts with me—at least, not to my face. If they did do anything, then it was online or behind my back._

 **If you won over a higher tier, did they act salty?**

 _Just the A tiers._

 **And if a lower tier won over you, did you act salty?**

 _Not in the least bit._

 **How about if you lost to a higher tier? Did you ever think winning over them was impossible?**

 _For the first question, if it was one of those A tiers, and they wouldn't leave me alone about it, then yes, I'd get upset. Otherwise, no. For the second question, I used to, but as I practiced, I got my confidence back. Even heroes have their confidence shaken sometimes._

 **Did you associate your ranking with winning or losing in any way?**

 _No, I did not._

 **Did you assign a value to yourself? Did others assign a value to you?**

 _No, and see the note about the A tiers._

 **Okay. Are you ready for this last part?**

 _I think so._

 **You told me about your relationship with Luigi. Did it change when I put the tier list up?**

 _I—yes._

 **How did it change?**

 _I felt so—bad for him. To him, the list was a constant reminder that I was the main attraction, and he was nobody. I wanted to reassure him that the list didn't mean anything. Needless to say, the list made things more—tense and competitive, especially on the battlefield. But I still wanted to make it clear that without his help, Koopa would've defeated me._

 **Is that what you told him?**

 _Along the lines of that, yes._

 **Mario—is it true that you sneaked a peek at the tier list before I made the official announcement?**

 _Yes._

 **So you knew well before Luigi did that he was in last place—the worst fighter on the roster?**

 _Yes. Yes, I did._

 **Do you mind explaining that, Mario?**

 _I—we were all in our rooms, getting ready for the day. We peeked out and saw you passing by with this—piece of paper. All of us were curious as to what it was. So, after you tacked it onto the board, I slipped in to take a little glance. All I wanted to know was my own ranking before the craze and the hype started. That's how I discovered I was seventh. But as I was about to leave, something occurred to me—_

 **Luigi's ranking.**

 _Yes. I felt I was entitled to know what they thought of him. So, I looked—and there he was, right at the bottom. I was stunned. I knew it was gonna destroy him, that I had to tell him, soften the blow somehow. But I just didn't know how I was gonna break it to him…_

 **What did you tell him, Mario?**

 _I went to his room, watched him dancing and rocking out to tunes on his stereo. He looked so happy and so excited to be here. I saw the same excitement and eagerness in his eyes when we were filling out our applications. He was making new friends and letting out even more aggression stemming from being in the shadows. I greeted him; we made small talk, and he was gushing about this and that—seeing him so full of life and hope and energy—I couldn't do it. I just—couldn't tell him what I knew._

 **You mean—you lied to him?**

 _Sort of. It was a lie by omission. I told him that I saw the tier list and our rankings, and that he was placed pretty low. I thought that by discouraging him from getting his hopes up too high, it would hurt less._

 **In other words, you attempted to prepare him for what was coming?**

 _Yes. Yes, I did._

 **Can you tell me about his reaction?**

 _When the announcement was made, we all crammed there at the bulletin board to see our rankings. All around me were people celebrating or fuming. I didn't want to let on that I knew in advance, so I pretended to react to my ranking, although I'd already accepted it. Jiggs and I were talking—and that's when I heard my brother's cry._

 **What did he say?**

 _He said, "Are you freaking kidding me?! Last place?!"_

 **And?**

 _I ran over and saw him, pale in the face, staring in abject devastation at the list and where they'd put him. I thought his knees were about to give out. He was muttering, "Oh, my God._ Mio Dio _. This isn't happening. No way is this happening." And I went and stood next to him, and I felt him looking at me. There was no question that he knew. He knew that I kept this a secret from him. That was why I couldn't tell him. I explained to him why I didn't tell him directly, or at least tried to explain. I wanted to, but—I just couldn't._

 **Did he understand?**

 _I think so. He told me that he wasn't angry. But our next meeting on the battlefield said otherwise._

 **Did you observe any differences in the way Luigi was treated?**

 _Pikachu, Kirby, Yoshi, Jiggs and I, along with Sammy, DK, Ness and Link, treated him the same. It was those two A tiers causing all of the trouble. And people on the Internet, with the exception of Isai and Sir Meta Knight, to name a few. Those two, who were friendly with him just hours prior, were now sticking their noses up at him. They were too good for him. They made him feel like he'd never fit in because he was last. I logged onto our blog and saw the most awful posts about Luigi! I flagged them, reported them and even confronted them directly, warning them to stop. But they wouldn't listen to me!_

 **Did your ranking with respect to his increase the competitiveness between you two?**

 _Only if I was the opponent. Otherwise, I was sitting in the middle seat of the front row, cheering him on._

 **And whenever you were fighting him, did you think a victory over him was guaranteed?**

 _Of course not. You think I'd throw that in his face? Come on, Master Hand._

 **I'm sure someone tried to split you two up by bringing up not only your higher tier ranking but also the unequal distribution of fame between you.**

 _No, they all went after Luigi directly. Nobody dared involve me in the equation. Cowards._

 **But I know for a fact that seeing his ranking reminded him of his life in your shadow.**

 _I thought so, too._

 **Did he ever lash out at you for it, verbally or physically?**

 _Not that I know of._

 **Did he emotionally distance himself from you?**

 _Quite the opposite. He turned to me for comfort and advice._

 **After you lied to him?**

 _It wasn't a lie, okay?! It was—a half-truth._

 **I wasn't being judgmental, Mario. I know why you did it. But for what it's worth, it would've been better if you told him right away.**

 _Uh—thanks?_

 **You're welcome. So, you never poked fun at him for being last, even if you had no intent to hurt him?**

 _No, I did not._

 **How did you respond to the people making fun of him?**

 _I tried to be nice. I told Luigi to ignore them. I reported abusive posts. But then I began playing a more active role. I posted heated replies to those bullying posts. I sent out warnings for them to back off. I know I should've told you, but I didn't want to come off as a tattletale. And a direct confrontation wasn't going to do me any good, because I knew I was gonna lose it on them._

 **In the following days, how did the tier list affect Luigi's morale and self-esteem?**

 _He became—obsessed with winning. I mean, if he lost, he didn't get outwardly upset, but he figured that winning meant less teasing. It got pretty bad. He was booed on stage, booed for winning, heckled and had things thrown at him. But he did a good job ignoring them. I'd log in to our blog—I followed him, you know—and I saw paragraphs upon paragraphs of posts condemning those people. Then, he started attacking the tier list, talking about how it broke friendships and encouraged hostile actions against him thanks to the "pecking order" it put into place. There was no holding back—he was really speaking his mind on there. Even those two A tiers weren't safe. I'd hear him in his room, using dummies to practice. By the time he was done, they were barely useable. And on the battlefield was where he really unleashed his rage._

 **Even you weren't safe?**

 _I guess you're right. Our rankings really brought out that "other side" of our relationship. I'll never forget the fierce look in his eyes as long as I live. I mean, in the lounge or relaxing, we were cool, but on a given stage, all bets were off._

 **It was great that he was sticking up for himself, but this still hit him hard, is that correct?**

 _I—I'd hear him crying himself to sleep. And I wanted to go in there and crawl into bed with him, hold him, make everything all right. But—at the same time—I saw him looking out for the other C tiers, being their light. And he told me himself that he didn't want to be treated like a little kid. I mean, once I couldn't resist the temptation. I baked some cookies our_ mamma _used to make for us and took them up to his room. As soon as he smelled them, his face lit up. He hugged me like it was the last hug he'd ever give me. It was his way of saying thanks because he didn't want me to see that he was crying. And so we ate cookies and watched some movies, and we fell asleep in each other's arms._

 **Do you suspect that his psyche was also affected?**

 _Absolutely. Why else is he the way he is on the battlefield nowadays?_

 **But as days became months, he began to rise against the connotations of being last.**

 _Oh, yeah. He was really standing up to these people and letting them know that he wasn't somebody to be walked all over._

 **How did you feel about that?**

 _Is that a trick question? I was practically jumping for joy!_

 **Just one last thing. Did you condone, and still condone, Luigi's violent reaction to an insult directed to him by a higher tier fighter?**

 _You're darn right I do._

 **You had a front row seat to the affair, didn't you, Mario?**

 _That's correct._

 **Then would you mind telling me about that night?**

 _We were all unwinding and preparing for the last wave of matches for the day. Luigi was dancing his butt off—he was positively magnetizing the floor. I saw a drink in his hand, and it was splashing everywhere, but he didn't mind. I mean, the way he rolled his hips and wound his belly—everyone else was shouting to him, and he seemed to respond. Dancing is the best way Luigi expresses himself—still is, you know._

 **Mario—the incident in question?**

 _Oh, right. We were all dancing and having a good time, right? Luigi had ordered another refill of his drink and was sitting there, catching his breath from all that dancing. Then, we heard a loud drunken voice shout, "Hey! Hey, hey!" And then everything—stopped._

 **What happened next?**

 _It was Falcon and Fox. I asked them, "Can I help you guys?" To which Captain Falcon responded, "Where is he, the last-place loser. You're the bottom of the food chain, buddy!" He was obviously drunk; I could smell it on his breath, and he was slurring and holding onto Fox for support. And then Fox said, "Somebody here had better explain the pecking order to him, because it's not fun and games anymore!"_

 **Did anyone make a move to get the bouncers?**

 _A Polygon offered to call them, but I decided that it wasn't necessary. I'd handle them._

 **What did you do?**

 _I asked if they were intoxicated, and they got defensive, saying that they were indulging in guilty pleasures. Jiggs and Sammy told them that they were in no condition to fight their last matches, but obviously, their words went unheeded. Then, I saw Luigi at the counter, stiff as a board, tracing the rim of his glass with a finger. I knew I had to get those two out of there, and fast._

 **Did you attempt to get them to leave?**

 _I was about to give them the bum's rush when Falcon—called Luigi a name. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Falcon was so kind to Luigi that morning. How could he be acting like this now? It just—struck me dumb._

 **What did Luigi do then?**

 _He finished his drink and then turned to confront those two. I could tell by his eyes that he was_ extremely _angry._

 **Did he appear intoxicated?**

 _No. His eyes were clear, he was steady on his feet, and his speech wasn't slurred. He was aware if what he was doing and that it was conventionally "wrong"._

 **And did you at least try to stop him or talk him down?**

 _I called out his name, and he just gave me this_ look _. I knew that I couldn't change his mind. Then, he rolled up his sleeves and advanced on Falcon and Fox. As soon as he put his fists up, I knew that talking him out of it was impossible._

 **Exactly what did Falcon say to tick Luigi off?**

 _He said, "C'mon, you n—b! You can't hide from us! Let's go! Let's see how low you are!" And when Luigi accepted his challenge, so to speak, Falcon said, "Yes! Time to settle this like men—if you're even capable of doing that!"_

 **Who swung first?**

 _Why, Falcon did, of course. Luigi dodged, retaliated, and boom. They were really going at each other, Falcon operating on liquor and Luigi operating on raw emotion and liquor._

 **You said he wasn't drunk.**

 _He wasn't as drunk as Falcon. Anyway, things quickly escalated into an all-out sanguinary brawl, and it looked like Fox would jump in any minute, so I tackled him and held him around the waist to prevent that. I was holding him the entire time. About halfway through, Falcon threw a drink in Luigi's face, punched and kneed him repeatedly and then dropped him with an uppercut. That was the turning point. Falcon was standing there, spreading his arms and provoking him. Luigi got up, and he was_ boiling _with fury. I mean, his nostrils were flaring, he was quivering a little, his face was tight, veins were popping out his neck, and his eyes—I hope and I pray never to be on the receiving end of that look, because I know I'll be in for all kinds of Hell._

 **Why didn't anyone get the bouncers then?**

 _We were too transfixed by the action. Here was the worst-ranked fighter sticking it too an A tier! And then Luigi started hollering and—we were hooked. It was the first time I heard him holler like that. We just let them duke till we heard your announcement. Then, we decided to wind it down. It took a while, but Luigi eventually forgave Falcon and Fox._

 **And did you condone, and still condone, what Luigi did to the tier list itself?**

 _Yes. Those people were pushing him and pushing him, and he just couldn't take it anymore._

 **Do you affirm that your responses are the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?**

 _Yes, I do._

 **Thank you for coming in to do this interview. You are dismissed.**

* * *

 **Next chapter wraps up this little interlude!**


	20. Towards Redemption

**Towards Redemption**

" **Redemption is something you have to fight for in a very personal, down-dirty way. Some of our characters lose that, some stray from that, and some regain it."  
― ****Joss Whedon**

" **Sometimes friends make mistakes. Grievous ones that cry out for us to stay and prove we are true friends."  
― ****Beth Bernobich**

" **When a relationship of love is disrupted, the relationship does not cease. The love continues; therefore, the relationship continues. The work of grief is to reconcile and redeem life to a different love relationship."  
― ****W. Scott Lineberry**

" _Do you think that maybe I should, y'know, talk to Luigi?"_

 _"I think that would be a good idea."_

 _"Will it erase what's happened between us?"_

 _"No, but it's a good start."_

Douglas replayed the talk with Master Hand in his mind. Ever since he was interviewed, he could barely sleep. Had he changed? Was he still considered a jock and a bully? Did Luigi truly forgive him? He'd been in denial for so long. He'd spent seventeen years avoiding the memories of his sins, pretending that they never happened, hoping that they'd just—go away. Out of sight, out of mind. But it didn't work. And what Luigi was going through in the present day—brought back some troubling memories of what he'd put the man in green through in 1999.

There was no other way to say it. He had been just as cruel then as these new people were now. The bathroom pranks seemed harmless on the surface—but they'd scarred Luigi emotionally. Perhaps what Douglas did were one of the events which caused Luigi to snap and decide that he'd had enough, that he'd deal with the hate and harassment in his own way. And although his tactics hadn't escalated to what these people were currently doing, they'd still hurt Luigi. Douglas had mocked Luigi—laughed at him, heckled him, taunted him, shamed him and humiliated him. Heck, he even called him a nasty name and picked a fight with him! There was no escape from the truth now. He had been—a bully. But unlike _these_ bullies, he'd realized the folly of his thinking, saw that his attitude was pushing people away and made the decision to turn his life around. The others were cold, calculating and remorseless.

But in order to truly move past this, Douglas had to broach this subject with Luigi. Time didn't heal all wounds; it was likely that the plumber would lie in bed at night and remember. When he was pounding Sandbags as everyone slept, he'd probably think about Douglas's actions as well. The racer desperately needed to get him alone in a room, where he could finally bare his soul and confirm that he was truly, deeply sorry for what he'd did. The majority of those picking on Luigi would use apologies as get out of jail free cards. But Douglas was sincere, and he had to demonstrate that if he wanted some decent sleep at night.

His thoughts shifted to a certain Space Warrior. Samus—he'd hurt her deeply when he stuck the blame of that Team Battle loss on her. She hadn't spoken to him for weeks after it went down. Before then, he was so close to finally winning her heart. But his pride got in the way and nearly ruined his one shot at true happiness. Oh, they were happily together now and had been going strong for seventeen whole years. But the aftermath of that Team Battle had no doubt left a tiny scar upon her heart. She, after all, had done most of the work while he stood around goading Ness and Kirby into showing their moves and preening. So whose fault was it really that they lost so badly? Unfortunately, in Douglas's little world, he was A tier and thus untouchable. He should've practiced instead of merely count on his ranking to fly him to victory.

The more he thought about it, the more he believed it. It was time to face the truth head on and admit his mistakes. Because doing so would not only improve his relationship with Luigi, but also improve his relationship with Samus.

 **LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL**

It was supposed to be a casual night out, but invading thoughts plagued Fox. He could barely concentrate on what Krystal was saying or eat a bite of his food. Ever since his interview, he was sorting through past events in his mind, and the more he sorted, the less able he was to lie to himself.

Scoffing? Looking at people down the length of his nose? Talking trash? What kind of leader was he if he did that? He was supposed to set an example for his team, and look what he was doing back then! Refusing to give a certain man in green the time of day because he was last place? Why, he was no better than a pushover or a bully! What would the Lylat Council think if they saw the leader of their mercenary team exhibiting such a disrespectful, bad attitude?

"Fox?"

The vulpine jolted out of his reverie and saw Krystal looking at him, concerned. "You okay?" she asked.

"Yeah, I…" He cleared his throat. "I've got a lot of things on my mind?"

"A mission?"

"No, no—the tournament." Fox took Krystal's paws in his. "Krys—there's something I have to tell you."

"What?"

"Remember when I told you about the tier list in Smash?"

"Yeah. What about it?"

"Well—I kinda let it get to my head," confessed Fox. "I was ranked 4th, and I was so happy. I mean, Douglas and I were joined at the hip after that."

"You told me about that, too." Krystal frowned. "What's going on?"

"There—I—one of the other fighters wasn't so lucky when it came to that tier list. He was ranked—last. I mean, everyone called him the worst Smasher on the roster. And he was having problems in his home world, too!"

"Like…?"

"He wasn't very popular in his home world, either. And I should've remembered that. But…"

"What did you do, Fox?"

Fox dropped his eyes. "Douglas and I—we—kinda—gave him a hard time over being last place. I made some crack about a pecking order, turned up my nose at him, brought it up in anger during a match because I was losing…"

"Fox," gasped Krystal.

"And then Douglas called him names and put him down—we both did. We pranked him, as well. But it was all in fun, and we didn't mean to hurt him, and now…" He took a deep breath. "Master Hand is investigating a cyberbullying pandemic targeting this guy, and he thinks that the first tier list started it all. Douglas and I are prime suspects, and—we just want him to know that we're not those people anymore. Krystal—I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, because I'm not the person you mercilessly bullied," Krystal said sternly.

"I know. I just don't want you to hate me over something I did in the past."

"I don't hate you. I'm just—astonished that you'd do something like that."

"But I'm a different person now. Can't you see that?"

"Of course I do? But does that guy see? Don't you think you owe _him_ an apology?"

"Yes," whispered Fox.

"You should go talk to him, and fast. Because for all I know, it could be festering in his mind and preventing him from getting a decent wink of sleep."

"Did I ever tell you that you give good advice?" winked Fox. "That's what I love about you."

Krystal rolled her eyes and smiled. "You're just trying to butter me up."

"But in all honesty—thanks. I feel a lot better now," said Fox.

He made a mental note to call up Douglas after his date…

 **LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL**

"You ready?" whispered Fox.

"As ready as I'll ever be, I guess," Falcon whispered back.

Fox held his friend's hand. "I've got your back," he assured him.

"It's my front I'm worried about," said Douglas.

They started down the corridor toward Luigi's room.

Soft music drifted from the ajar door as the vulpine and racer approached their destination. They recognized that tune, it was "La Luna", a translation of "Song to the Moon". Luigi was probably relaxing. Dare they break the mood by bringing up some unpleasant memories?

Douglas reached the doorway and peeked in. There was Luigi, seated before an easel, vigorously throwing himself into his art. The racer had never seen the plumber doing any artwork before, but judging from his bright eyes and his facial expression, it was a fantastic release for him. There was paint all over his fingers, hands, arms and face, and some splatters on his chest. He'd ditched a paintbrush in favor of his fingers, making starbursts of color all over the canvas. Now, the convoluted morass before him didn't make any sense at all—but that was the beauty of art and expression.

Fox joined Falcon in peering in. "You think we should bother him now?" he asked quietly. "He seems busy."

"Okay, now you're just making excuses," retorted Douglas.

"It's okay," Luigi suddenly said without taking his eyes from his painting. "You can come in."

Douglas and Fox exchanged a look before stepping indoors.

"Hey, Cap'n. Fox. Nice to see you," said Luigi.

"You, too," said Falcon. "That's a marvelous piece you're working on."

"Thanks," said Luigi, blotting on some more paint and manipulating it with animated motions of his hands and fingers. "I needed to do _something_ besides fight in matches."

"It's good that you're keeping your brain occupied," said Fox. "L—we need to talk to you for a minute."

"Yeah? What about?" asked Luigi.

"We just—need to get stuff off of our chests," explained Falcon.

Luigi paused in his work and turned toward his two visitors. "Is everything all right?" he asked.

"L," began Falcon. "We just want to say—we're sorry. We're sorry for everything we did back in the day. There hasn't been a day or night where we weren't thinking about our past actions. What we did to you because of that list—was mean and stupid. I mean, the pranking, the taunting, the putting down, the castigating—and the name I called you that night—it was just—unacceptable."

Luigi blinked. "'Unacceptable' is an understatement," he said. "It was vicious and sadistic."

"We regret it," added Fox, "all of it. But we want you to know—we're different, changed people now. We respect you, and we hold you among the best."

Luigi stared at them for a long while, his face slowly softening. "You—you really mean that?"

"Every word," Fox said solemnly.

"Douglas—Fox—this is a thoughtful and sweet gesture," smiled Luigi, "but I managed to move past that. It wasn't easy, but I put it behind me and moved forward. Still, it was nice of you to come here and really apologize. That shows me that you're truly remorseful."

"So—you…?" began Douglas.

"Yes. I accept your apology," replied Luigi, "but I wonder—did it really take a nerf to make you change?"

"Partly," said Fox.

"The other part was you," Falcon jumped in. "Our actions—pushed you away and discouraged you from being friends with us."

"Indeed, they did," nodded Luigi. "I'm happy you saw the hint where everyone else refused to."

"Are you sure we're cool?" asked Fox.

Luigi beamed at him. "Absolutely positive."

He opened his arms, and Falcon and Fox moved into them.

"You two have fully redeemed yourselves."

 **End Interlude 1**

 **The action picks back up in Melee. Stay tuned!**


	21. Reunion

**Reunion**

 **Let's go into Book 2 of this story. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Reunion** _ **(n)**_ **: an instance of two or more people coming together again after a period of separation; the act or process of being brought together again as a unified whole**

 **-from Google Search**

 **2001**

The twelve legends Master Hand had brought together had, despite the tension, really grown on each other.

Tears had been shed during the closing ceremony, all the Smashers hoping against hope that this wasn't a permanent "goodbye".

And Master Hand knew it. He, too, was crying as his Smashers parted ways. They were his new family. Following the end of the first tournament, MH was an extremely lonely glove, with only a crazy twin brother and a spherical being of a father to keep him company.

Two years went by, and he couldn't take it anymore. Smash had set the Nintendo universe on its ear, and he knew his Smashers were itching to come back. So, as snow began to fall, cookies began to bake and Christmas lights began to glow, the Hand of Creation decided it was time.

The Original Twelve were ecstatic, to say the least, when Master Hand wrote to them to invite them to another tournament. They'd spent the past two years practicing and keeping in touch with one another via phone calls and letters. Most of them had gone on more adventures since then, adventures which helped them grow, and in the case of one, boosted self-esteem and self-confidence. Master Hand promised that this tournament would be bigger than the previous, with plenty of surprises in store. He had his Smashers at "surprises".

On December 3, 2001, the twelve Smashers once again reported to the Smash Mansion, suitcases in hand, happy to be back. Master Hand heartily greeted them and escorted them to the revamped Reception Area, allowing them to not only reconnect with each other but also bond with the thirteen newcomers he'd invited. Hot chocolate and cookies were passed around as the returnees mingled with the newbies. After about an hour, Master Hand re-appeared to introduce (or re-introduce) himself and to talk about how this new tournament, Melee, was going to be different. There was going to be an all-new Adventure Mode consisting of elements from the Smashers' home worlds, fifty-one Event Matches and several Multi-Man Modes. The Polygons had given way to Wireframes, more than happy to tend to the needs of any Smasher. And finally, the brand-new Home Run Contest introduced the Sandbags, which the Smashers could use for practice if a sparring partner was unavailable.

Once explanations were through, MH had the Smashers form two lines—veterans over here and newcomers over there—to check in and receive their room assignments. The rooms had been remodeled entirely, since with the increased popularity of the tournaments came increased funding. Like last year, the rest of the day was used for leisure, to get settled in and to catch up with friends they hadn't seen in a while.

* * *

"I'm so nervous," said Captain Falcon.

"Don't worry," said Ness, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine."

"Yeah," said Jigglypuff. "Melee is a clean slate."

"Thanks," beamed Falcon as he knocked on the door.

It opened with a soft _click_ , revealing Luigi. His blue eyes immediately lit up with joy.

"Ness! Jiggs! Douglas!" he said. "I missed you so much!"

"We missed you, too!" cried Falcon, his concerns dispelled by the smile on Luigi's face.

The plumber opened his arms, and his three friends tackled him, hugging wildly on the floor.

"I have some interesting news," said Falcon after the hugfest was over, and the four were seated on Luigi's bed. "For the time being, I am on the starting roster."

"So am I," added Ness.

"Goodness—that's wonderful!" gushed Luigi.

"Puff! You're playing with the big boys now!" added Jiggs.

"I can't wait to show my moves to the newcomers," said Douglas. "How about you?"

"Definitely," said Luigi, "but no matter what happens, we'll still be the Formidable Four. Am I right?"

Falcon nodded. "Right."

"So," said Ness. "How are you and Samus?"

"We're official now," blushed Falcon. "We had our first date, and one might say that we're birds of a feather."

"Congratulations, Falcon," said Luigi. "I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, L," said Douglas.

"I don't have anything interesting to share," sighed Ness. "Sorry."

"Pikachu and I have been in some more Pokémon tournaments since 1999," said Jigglypuff, "and we made some new friends—as well as enemies."

Ness, Jiggs, and Falcon turned to Luigi, who obviously had something to share but was holding it in.

"Come on, L," said Douglas, seeing the blush to Luigi's cheeks. "We see it all over your face. What's the latest scoop in the Super Mario universe?"

"I—I…" Luigi began softly, but then he straightened and finished in a strong voice. "I rescued Mario."

"No way!"

"Good for you, L!"

"Puff! Jigglypuff!"

"What happened?" asked Falcon.

"I got a letter saying that I won a free mansion, so I went to check it out," said Luigi. "It turned out to be a mansion full of spooks. But then, I ran into Toad, and he told me that Mario was—missing. Later, I met E. Gadd, a paranormal researcher, and he asked me to help him capture the ghosts."

"How did you find Mario?" asked Ness.

"The King of all Boos had trapped him in a painting," said Luigi. "That spook may have frightened me, but I sure as heck wasn't going to leave without my bro!" His eyes flashed. "We fought on the rooftop, and he pulled some tricks. I was badly hurt, but I did it. I defeated him, and I got Mario out of there. We cried and cried in each other's arms."

Luigi then slid off the bed and withdrew a vacuuming device from his closet. "You see this? This is the Poltergust 3000. E. Gadd gave it to me, and I used it to capture those ghosts and Boos and save my bro."

"So—you're not scared of ghosts anymore?" asked Jiggs.

Luigi shrugged. "I honestly don't know," he said softly. "I can tell you that if a ghost harms or tries to harm someone I love dearly, then all bets are off!

"I was proud of myself afterward," he went on. "I'd look at my reflection sometimes, and I'd say to myself, 'I rescued my big bro'. I was commended for it, you know. It was a small ceremony, but at least it was something. And the look on Mario's face—I can't ask for anything more than that. Or a grateful hug or a shoulder squeeze or a cry of 'Way to go, Bro!' I—I just can't even…" He took a deep breath and swiped at his eyes.

"We're proud of you, L," said Ness, "and I'm sure Mario's proud of you, too. What's that you've always said? 'Anything is possible, once you put your mind to it'."

"And I put my mind to beating back my fears and getting Mario out of harm's way," Luigi said passionately, "and I did it! I was tempted to turn back more than once, but I still got the job done! Let's see what these people say about me now!"

"Luigi…" started Douglas, fearful of the direction the conversation was going.

Luigi whipped around and fixed the racer with an intense look. "I hope they all paid attention, because I made something clear when I faced my worst fear—I'm not a someone to discard or be plopped into last place! I'm not a shadow! I'm not one to shy away from a fight! And I'm as sure as [ _bleep_ ] not a loser or a—a…" He trailed off.

Douglas, Ness and Jiggs exchanged a look before glancing back at Luigi, taking slow, deep breaths and pulling himself together.

"This is something I feel strongly about," he explained in a softer tone.

"I see that," Douglas said slowly.

"This has been a big year for you," added Ness. "You proved to the world that you're Player One material. My compliments."

Luigi smiled. "Thanks, Ness," he said.

"Yeah, L," said Douglas, draping an arm around him. "You're a trooper."

The moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" asked Luigi.

"It's Fox!"

Luigi stood and answered the door. "Hello," he greeted the vulpine, his voice formal.

Fox McCloud had changed significantly since 1999. In addition to gaining closure over his father's death, he'd also fallen in love with a feisty blue-furred vixen named Krystal. Also, he'd garnered more trust among his colleagues.

Currently, Fox held a familiar game tucked under his arm. "So," he said, a little sheepishly. "I see you have some guests, and I was wondering if—well—we could…"

The ice was broken. "Sure, we could play some Twister!" beamed Luigi. "It'll be just like old times!"

"Yeah," echoed Fox. "Just like old times…"

Luigi let Fox in, and the mercenary leader wasted no time setting up the mat. The Formidable Four quickly kicked off their shoes and found a spot on the mat while Fox grabbed the spinner and made himself comfortable in a chair.

"Right hand—green!"

* * *

Pikachu was relaxing in his room when he heard a soft knock on the door.

The electric mouse scampered over and opened it. "Pika!" he cried happily.

Kirby stood before him, holding a nice-sized cake. "Poyo?" he asked.

"Pika," replied Pikachu, allowing Kirby to puff inside.

Kirby placed the cake on the table and carefully sliced it up with Pikachu's help. He hefted a generous slice of the cake onto two plates and gave one plate to Pikachu.

Pikachu grabbed a fork and dug in. The cake was delicious, as always. He really missed Kirby and the goodies he made. The Star Warrior and the electric mouse became pen pals after the first tournament ended, which only strengthened their friendship. While Pikachu fought in more Pokémon battles, Kirby was in an adventure which involved retrieving some Crystal Shards and befriending a talented painter named Adeline. But now that they were back together, it was like they'd never been separated.

"Poyo?" Kirby said softly, getting Pikachu's attention.

"Pika?" asked Pikachu.

Kirby blushed and looked down. "Poyo, poyo, poyo poyoyo," he said, explaining how the electric mouse had given him a positive vibe from the very beginning. "Poyo, poyo, popoyo poyoy poyo."

"Pika—pika?" Pikachu asked in a breathy voice.

"Poyo, poyo, poyoyo poyoy poyo poy," confessed Kirby. "Poyo, poyo poy poyo popoyo poyo."

Pikachu smiled. Kirby had just admitted that he loved him, and that nothing would tear them apart. "Pika, pika, pi," he said quietly, reciprocating Kirby's feelings.

The electric mouse leaned forward and took Kirby's mouth in his for a deep kiss.

"Pika?" he asked once the kiss broke, inviting the puffball to go out with him.

Kirby nodded. "Poyo!" he said cheerfully, kissing Pikachu again.

* * *

Samus opened her door to find a Wireframe standing outside. "Oh! Hey," she said.

The Wireframe smiled. "Delivery for Samus Aran," she said cordially.

"What? I didn't order…" Samus trailed off when she saw the package of Metroid food, a bouquet of roses and some chocolates. "Captain Falcon. Tell him I said thanks."

"Of course," said the Wireframe as Samus took the gifts and laid them out on her dresser.

Samus's pet Metroid seemed to enjoy the delicious food from Douglas, merrily chowing down while its mistress brought the bouquet to her nose and breathed in the scent of the roses. She then caught sight of the note attached to the bouquet.

 _8p.m. tonight?_ It read.

Samus plucked out a piece of chocolate and then popped it into her mouth. "I'll be there," she promised.

 **We'll meet the newcomers next chapter. What do you think? Talk to me.**


	22. Doors (The List Again)

**Doors (The List Again)**

 _ **Three weeks later…**_

The 25 Smashers were now fully situated in Melee, and the first matches had been fought. Everyone had been introduced to Master Hand's unpredictable twin brother, Crazy Hand, known as the Hand of Destruction. Despite his rattling disposition, all held their own in a battle against the two Hands during the final level of Classic Mode.

As far as matches were concerned, they were arranged like the ones in the first tournament. The day's bouts were tacked up on the poster board every morning, and they consisted of stock matches or time matches, either with or without items. They'd become noticeably more rigorous, so that everyone was tuckered out by the time the fights were over. But at least they all had time to cool off in the refurbished steam room or be pampered by Wireframe spa attendants. Master Hand made up for the increased intensity of Smashing by spoiling his fighters rotten, and they loved it.

Brand new techniques were present in Melee, as well. The most prevalent of these was wavedashing, allowing many fighters to traverse a given stage in record time. Luigi was among the best wavedashers, given his low traction, and he used this hidden blessing to beef up both his defensive and offensive strategies. To succeed in Melee, learning how to wavedash was key. Other clever moves included Fox's laser techs, his short hop single and double lasers and the inclusion of side-special moves. You'll hear more on those later.

Now that the Melee fighters had some victories and losses under their belt, the time had come yet again. Master Hand woke up and gobbled down some blueberry muffins for breakfast before making himself comfortable at his new Windows XP desktop and opening his email page. And there, in the Unread folder, was a message from Sakurai.

The new tier list was ready.

Master sighed deeply. He wished he didn't have to go through this again. After what happened last time—

He shook himself out of it. The Smashers had learned from their mistakes and reconciled in time to end the first tournament on a happy note. Hopefully, they'd remember the friendships which nearly crumbled to dust before starting in on that crap again…

With a heavy heart, MH printed the document and lifted the warm sheet of paper from the printer's tray. "Let's get this over with," he muttered as he floated out of his office and toward the Main Hall.

Once again, MH had to pass through the hallway in which the Smashers' rooms were located. Twenty-five doors cracked open, revealing twenty-five curious pairs of eyes fixed on MH's every move. Of those 25, 12 knew exactly what the glove was holding in his hand. And the other 13 were about to find out.

From the door across from Mario peeped the fair-haired Peach, the benevolent ruler of the Mushroom Kingdom. Despite frequently spending time in another castle, Peach was an effective leader, keeping her constituents optimistic in times of strife. She always rewarded Mario's efforts to bring her back from that other castle with a sweet kiss and an even sweeter cake. The two of them had been going strong since he first helped her restore peace to her kingdom. Together, they hosted sporting events, parties and kart racing tournaments. However, almost always being in another castle was starting to wear on her, which was why she said "yes" to Melee. With her trusty Toad, her Parasol and her Vegetables, among other things, she'd show Nintendo that she was no damsel in distress!

Through another door peeked two green eyes under bushy red brows. They belonged to King Koopa, the thorn in the Mushroom Kingdom's side and the sixteen-year bane of the Mario Bros' existence. Koopa was the reason why Peach spent so much time in another castle. Some say that he was a lonely turtle looking for love. Others say that he just wanted her kingdom to herself. And some argue a combination of the two. But either way, Mario was always one step ahead and foiled Koopa's endeavors for total power. He was so happy to be invited here—so many shrimps and twerps to show who's boss, and finally— _finally_ —a chance to beat those Bros to a bloody pulp! But the downside was that the object of his desires could finally unleash her wrath on him, and these tournaments only caused the animosity between him and those plumbers to escalate to titanic proportions. Oh, well. He still had fun pushing the other Smashers around.

Out of another door close to Mario was—another Mario! Dressed in white scrubs, a red tie, gray slacks and a white coat, his stethoscope and other doctor's tools at the ready—presenting Dr. Mario! After things between him and Koopa settled down for a bit, Mario had decided to go back to school and earn a medical degree. Peach, secretly a registered nurse, helped him take on pesky viruses using their miraculous Megavitamins! In 1990, they set up a clinic to help ailing Toads, but Mario's medical excursions paled in comparison to his more heroic deeds. However, he was thrilled when Master Hand offered to allow him to present his "first, do no harm" alter ego onto the battlefield. Despite being snubbed as a clone, Dr. Mario was popular among the Smashers, and he wouldn't trade a day of this experience for the world.

Out of a door neighboring Link peeped Zelda, Hyrule's wise Princess and the bearer of the Triforce of Wisdom. After listening to Link's tales of the first tournament, she decided to accompany him to this go-round, figuring that he and the other Smashers would need her counsel. Zelda had come loaded for bear with magical and sometimes fiery attacks. And let's not talk about the "other her"—Sheik, the last of the Sheikah tribe and a swift, lethal ninja. As Sheik, Zelda had plunged Smashers into a living nightmare on the Stage of Broken Friendships, aka the Temple. Outside of matches, Zelda swiftly became Peach's BFF, and they'd hold sleepovers in one or the other's room.

Out of the other door neighboring Link glared Ganondorf, the King of Evil and the bearer of the Triforce of Power. Time and time again, he'd try to grab the Triforce pieces for himself and then take over Hyrule, with little or no success, courtesy of a certain young elf. Ganon was the Koopa to Link's Mario. They _hated_ each other. When the Gerudo took MH up on his offer to join, he hoped to strike fear into the hearts of other Smashers, almost immediately winning Koopa over as a best buddy. The two of them enjoyed bullying Smashers to their heart's content, which only made their victims more determined to thrash them on the battlefield. Link and Zelda especially enjoyed giving their rival what he deserved, working out their enmity and frustration toward him whenever they could.

Out of a door across from Link peered a considerably younger Link—how about a seven years younger Link? Young Link, known to his friends simply as YL, was Link's clone, but he looked up to his elder counterpart and lovingly called him "Big Me". He also thought of Zelda as his "mama", and he frequently turned to him or Dr. Mario for comfort whenever he was singled out for being a clone. YL was also good friends with Ness, and they were often found playing baseball in the yard or video games in the lounge.

Out of the door beside Fox glowered the ace pilot of Star Fox, Falco Lombardi. Falco and Fox loved to hate each other, but when danger called, the blue avian would fight at the vulpine's side in a heartbeat. Falco hailed from Brooklyn, and he was thus drawn to another New Yorker, Luigi, who also shared a cultural and linguistic background with him. Though Falco was known to be brash, and he left or threatened to leave Star Fox a number of times, he was still a reliable asset to the Star Fox team. Fox had secured Falco's place in Melee to make up for the avian "being left out" in the first one, even though Falco had stated that he wasn't interested.

Out of some other door hovered Mewtwo, the mysterious Psychic Pokémon. Mewtwo used telekinesis and energy projectiles to fight and had a tense relationship with Pikachu and Jigglypuff. This because he'd stirred up some trouble back in their home world and had put Ash and Misty, among others, in danger. Mewtwo was a malevolent clone of the adorable Legendary, Mew, and he tended to look down on the "mortals" in the Smash Mansion. He didn't bully them, but he displayed apathy toward whatever problems they confided to him.

Out of the door next to Pikachu's room peeped an electric mouse even cuter than Pikachu—Pichu! This pre-evolved form of the iconic electric mouse was just starting out in tournaments in his home world. Pikachu hoped that Melee would be good training wheels for Pichu to cut his teeth. Since Pichu was a baby, many of his electric attacks could hurt himself, but the tenacity he displayed was impressive. He, too, was picked on for being a clone, but he knew how to handle it, bonding with YL and Dr. Mario, along with non-clones like Ness, Kirby and Jiggs.

Out of yet another door poked two heads—Nana and Popo, the Ice Climbers! These young mountaineers were nearly forgotten; they were only known for their one huge excursion up a mountain in 1985. But MH was determined to revive old legends, and thanks to him, the Ice Climbers were back in the limelight. They were close friends with Ness, YL, Pichu and Kirby, and they were known to double-team opponents in battle. Sometimes, Popo being launched off the stage counted as a K.O; other times, it was Nana. A popular technique of the Ice Climbers was "the Wobble", in which there would be one Ice Climber on either side of an opponent, pummeling to kingdom come! These two may be childish, but they were nothing to joke about on the battlefield!

Out of a twenty-third door peeped Marth Lowell, the exiled Prince of Altea. Marth was an obscure hero, only recognized in Japan, and mostly preferred to speak Japanese while taunting or celebrating a victory. He was instantly recognizable by his charming looks, his mop of blue hair, and his divine sword, Falchion. Marth was a beast in Melee due to his Tipper, his Shield Breaker, his Counter and his Dancing Blade.

In the neighboring room resided the fiery-haired Roy, the Red Lion and the Lord of Pharae. Sparks had flown between him and the bluenette well before Melee. Roy's weapon of choice was the Sword of Seals, which could light aflame at his command. His motto was: "For those whom I must protect, I will not lose!" So far, he'd followed this to the letter, even though he was considered Marth's clone.

And finally, speaking of classics, there was Mr. Game and Watch, peeking out of a twenty-fifth door. G&W, a monochrome, 2-dimensional man, was considered the father of modern gaming. In planning Melee, Master Hand wanted to tip the hat to legends past, and by including G&W, he'd accomplished his mission. G&W only spoke in BEEP and BOOP, but he was still a great guy to be around, flipping steaks, sausages, chicken and fish for hungry Smashers and ringing his bell often. During a heated battle, he could swoop in with a "NEIN"—er, a "nine", from his Judge move, fill a bucket with energy-based projectiles to dump on opponents, literally juggle foes, or execute whimsical moves to pay homage to the games from the original Game and Watch series. He was quite pleased to discover that his participation in Melee had reignited interest in his old games.

Finally, Master Hand reached the Main Hall and tacked the familiar piece of paper onto the board. Then, he retreated to his office, waiting for the fireworks to start—

 **The fireworks go off next chapter. Stay tuned.**


	23. Innocence Lost

**Innocence Lost?**

 **It begins again...**

It was lunchtime. Wireframes were the cafeteria helpers, serving up the day's lunch special to Smashers in need of nourishment. They sat with friends, chatting about this and that while noshing on their food. Still blissfully unaware of the new tier list.

"…and then he asks, 'What do they feed you Mario Bros, anyway? Gullible soup?' If it weren't for the situation, then I would've laughed aloud! I mean, what kind of insult is that?" Luigi was saying. "I was nearly petrified, but at the same time, I was so fired up—then he pulled me onto the roof and got into that suit. Sucking up the spiked balls and launching them back at him was improvisation, really—but at least it helped me realize that it was just a suit. Otherwise, it would've been Game Over for…" He trailed off and cleared his throat. "During that battle, he did things. He spewed fire. He threw those spikey balls. He sucked me into his mouth and sliced me with his fangs. He punched me and slashed with his claws. But I kept on fighting. By the time I finally managed to suck him in, I was nearly dead on my feet. It didn't matter when I saw _him_ in front of me, dizzy and shaken but alive. In his arms, I felt so safe—so safe…"

Luigi gazed at his listeners. It had been weeks since the adventure, but the adrenaline still flowed. Along with the fact that he'd beaten his worst fear and proved to God and everyone that he was _somebody_. But there was the downside of the adventures—the nightmares of what had transpired and what would've transpired if not for his intervention. Thanks to frequent appointments with Dr. Toadley and talking it over with trusted ones, the nightmares and flashbacks were abating.

The Smashers gazed back at him, digesting his story. This man was the _ultimate_ brother! Constantly shelved in favor of the elder, but refusing to give in to jealousy! Ghosts made his skin crawl, but he still faced hordes of them for the sake of his sibling's well-being! Would any other brother be willing to do that? Probably not.

"You sure showed them," crowed Fox.

"I did," replied Luigi, looking him dead in the eye. Fox caught the unsaid message, _I sure showed you and Falcon, too_. While talking about the adventure and gesturing, the vulpine felt like most of the story was directed at him and his racer friend. And perhaps it was. Two years ago, he'd thought low of Luigi. Falcon had thought of him as "the last-place loser" and a n—b. And the King of all Boos had considered him laughable. And yes, he'd been unnerved in the beginning, but his strength and courage grew and grew and grew. Mario's voice in his head, encouraging him. And so, he sweated and bruised and bled and fought—and won. Later, those pent-up feelings were released via tears and laughter. He'd make the trek all over again—heck, he'd make the trek twenty times over—just to be in Mario's arms. His strong, red-sleeved arms—

"Poyo!"

Luigi shifted his gaze to Kirby, gripping the table and hanging on to his every word.

"That's right, Kirby. I did it. I set my mind to it, I poured my heart and body and soul into it, and no matter how scary it got, I just kept going. For Mario."

"Poyo, poyo, poyo poy," said Kirby.

"You knew I could do it? Aw, thanks, Kirbs," blushed Luigi.

"Poy popoyo poyo, poyo."

"I'm happy you always believed in me. Even during _that_." He fired a quick look at Falcon and Fox.

"Poyo—poyo poyoyo poy poyo, poyo popoyo," entreated Kirby. The puffball didn't want the past to complicate Luigi's relationships. Melee was a clean slate, and everyone was starting fresh.

"I know, but it still breaks my heart that they'd about-face like that just days into the tournament," explained Luigi. Though he'd forgiven—or was on his way to forgiving—Fox and Falcon for what when down in '99, he could never forget it. By telling them about his haunted mansion exploits, he wanted to remind them that they'd been wrong about him.

"Trust us, L—we've seen the light," said Fox with an easy smile.

"Yeah! Way to show those spooks your moves!" laughed Falcon.

"And if anyone has been fed gullible soup, then it's us," conceded Fox. "We love you, Luigi."

Luigi nodded crispy, still not letting them off so easily. "I know," he told them.

"Poyo, poyo poyoy?" asked Kirby.

"Of course I think you can do something like that," nodded Luigi. "You're small and light, but also capable. You've defended your homeland. You've buffeted all of us in Smash. If someone you loved was held in a haunted mansion, then I know you'll save them."

Kirby smiled. "Poy," he said.

"What are you thinking about, Kirby?" asked Luigi.

"Poyo, poyo, poyo, poyo, poyo poy poyoyo popoyo poy poyo," murmured Kirby. "Poyo, poyo, poyo, poy. Poyoyo poy popoyo poyo, poyo."

"Kirby—listen to me. I've had moments of low self-esteem, too. But I think you've fought well so far. Maybe you're a little rusty when it comes to Smash, but I'm confident that when things pick up, you'll fall right back into pace."

"Poyo," said Kirby, but he was still worried. He didn't do as well as he'd hoped in Melee's first battles—and lost several consecutive matches lately. His losses started to exceed his victories, another cause for concern. This was more than just being rusty after two years, the Star Warrior was sure of it.

"I know you lost some key matches, but a lot of other returnees have, too," Luigi went on, as if reading Kirby's thoughts. "You can't give up this early in the game. You'll feel the urge to, but you can't. And don't worry. I've got your back. And your other friends won't turn their backs on you."

Kirby puffed across the table and into Luigi's arms. "Poy," he said gratefully.

"Of course, Kirbs," smiled Luigi, kissing the top of the fluffball's head.

Across the room, a throat cleared.

The Smashers turned to see Crazy Hand floating outside the cafeteria entrance. "Uh, hey, you guys," he said. "In case you're interested, the new tier list is up."

Kirby turned light green. "Poyo…"

"Is—is that what you're worried about?" asked Luigi, trying to mask his own unease.

"Poyo, poyo poy poyoyo poyo," Kirby whispered into Luigi's ear.

Luigi just held him, because he had nothing to say.

 **LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL**

Just minutes after Crazy Hand's announcement, the 26 Smashers were crowded in front of the bulletin board, zeroing in on the new tier list.

It had a sleeker look compared with the first one. Instead of 2D drawings, there were photographs denoting each fighter, and above each photograph was a number from 1 to 26. A purple background replaced the simple white one. Once again, the list ran vertical. And once again, the Smashers jostled and crammed, eager to see their spot. The twelve veterans, especially, were eager to see whether or not their rankings had improved.

As index fingers or appendages quickly pinpointed the Smashers' placements, shouts of joy, awe, disbelief, anguish and grief filled the room as they reacted to their new rankings. Hugs, high-fives and sighs were exchanged. And in the case of several—

"No way!" hollered Fox, staring goggle-eyed at the piece of paper before him. "I'm really the best of the best this time?! I—I have a tier all to myself?" He thought for sure his placement had dropped, considering—

"And I'm second!" added Falco. "Not bad for a first-timer."

Fox playfully swatted Falco on the back. "Not bad at all, my man! Way to show 'em!"

"Well, I guess we're the cream of the crop now, huh?"

"You _guess_? You're darn right we're the cream of the crop! Look out, world!" whooped Fox.

The two Star Fox representatives did a chest-bump and began carrying on, tuning out the Smashers around them.

"Wow," mused Falcon when his finger found his tier slot. "Fourth. I guess I'm still pretty good."

"Yeah, Douglas, old pal! You're still with the big boys!" Fox threw his arms around him and gave him a noogie.

"And it looks like you're the top dog," nodded Falcon. "I'm happy for you. Just remember…"

"Yeah, yeah—there's nothing to worry about," laughed Fox. "I'm the best, baby! Wooo!"

Yet Falcon couldn't help but worry. Fox was starting to fall back into the same behavior which nearly cost him his burgeoning friendships two years prior.

"Puff," mused Jiggs, who was right next to Falcon, in fifth place. "Better than being in the middle, I admit…"

As Nana and Popo happily swung each other around, Peach regarded her tier slot with a coy smile, Mario at her elbow. "Look at that," she breathed.

"Yeah," added Mario. "I could never be prouder of you, Peachy."

"That turtle should be worried now," stated Peach. "Very worried." Her eyes swung down toward Mario's ranking, the first spot in the D tier. He'd gone from a mid-tier in 1999 to a low-tier fighter. Peach had seen her love's brow furrow when he saw this. She, too, was upset, but you couldn't get everything you wanted, right?

"Hey," she said.

"Hmm?"

"Don't take it so hard. You're still the all-around, the unofficial spokesperson," she said. "You're still my people's protector."

Mario smiled. "Thanks, Princess. Wanna go out tonight and celebrate, just the two of us?"

"Sure."

Samus nodded at her tier spot before looking at Falcon. "We've both moved up," she said.

"Yeah. Looks that way," said Falcon, kissing her cheek. "You sure showed them, Sam."

"I did, but—remember what happened last time," cautioned Sam.

Douglas dropped his eyes. "I know. I really messed up."

Sam tilted his chin up. "But you learned," she assured him. The racer saw forgiveness in the Space Warrior's eyes. Glancing in Fox's direction, she added, "I'd keep an eye on him, though."

The vulpine was putting on a big song-and-dance with Falco, much to the consternation of several Smashers.

"Whatever lesson he's learned, he conveniently forgot," grumbled Sam.

"It's just a phase," said Falcon, but deep down, he knew—

"This makes no sense!" balked Zelda. "How can I be in two places at once?" While she was in the second-to-last tier, Sheik, the "other her", was in the S-tier. "What in Nayru's name is this?"

Inside her consciousness, Sheik shrugged. "I guess I have more advantages, being a ninja and all."

"Oh, stop it," groaned Zelda.

Nobody even paid attention to Koopa, Ganondorf and Mewtwo ranting and having conniptions over being cast into the low-tier, despite their awesome might.

Meanwhile, Luigi and Kirby hung back, both quite wary over gazing upon that list. The former remembered what had happened two years ago, how so many people turned their backs on him. How two Smashers harassed him, belittled him, called him names and tied his shoelaces together, among other things. How the audience booed and splattered him with Maxim tomatoes and other foodstuffs, even when he won. How Jigglypuff had lent him the black marker which became the avenue for his malevolence toward that piece of paper. How…

The latter was off to a sluggish start in Melee. Sure, he didn't let his second-place ranking the first time around get to his head, but here, he didn't feel as good about his performance so far. He'd lost many key matches, including a few exhibition bouts, and he heard the crowd's titters and snickers, smelling blood and waiting to pounce. Also, he'd racked up more defeats than victories lately. Kirby felt his bottomless gut twist at the mere thought of it. He tried to talk to Pikachu about it, but the electric mouse seemed a little—distant—from him lately, strangely fixated on a certain plumber's side-special and how closely it resembled his Skull Bash—

"Well, here goes," said Luigi. "You ready, Kirby?"

"Poyo," Kirby replied, a little uncertainly.

The two Smashers blended into the crowd for a glimpse at the tier list.

Luigi saw his ranking first. And he couldn't believe it. His efforts had truly paid off. Now, he was a decent mid-tier, in 13th place. It was probably because of his wavedash. Or his new side special. Or his overall tenacity. Or—

A heart wrenching "POYOOOOO!" caught his attention.

Kirby stood there staring, aghast, at the tier list and where they'd put him. And when Luigi took a closer glance at that thing to investigate, his heart went into a tailspin.

For there, on the piece of paper before him, Kirby's worst fears were confirmed.

 _Last place_.

 **Please review.**


	24. Crumbling Naivete

**Crumbling Naiveté**

 **Sorry for the long wait! Here's the next chapter!**

"P-poyo…"

Kirby felt himself swaying on his feet as he stared at the new list. This had to be some sort of sick joke! What was he doing in last place, after his wonderful performance in 1999? Did they really nerf him _that_ badly? After a tournament as a mighty A-tier, he was now regarded as a useless pink puffball.

He'd seen the signs after the first few losses. He tried to brush them aside, assuring himself that he just needed warming up before he'd be his old self again. But he knew. And seeing the confirmation before him simply made everything worse.

Kirby felt a soft touch on his shoulder and turned. It was Luigi, also looking pale, but trying so hard to be strong. He wanted to be there for the puffball because he'd lived through this. The ravenous pack of wolves was sniffing the poor guy down, and someone had to defend him from them. Someone…

"Kirby…" Luigi said softly. "I don't—wow. I'm sorry."

"Poy," said Kirby, not wanting Luigi to be sorry for him. "Poyo, poyo." He'd get through this.

"Kirby, I know that you're determined not to let this get to you, but there are beasts out there. Beasts who want to make you miserable over it."

"Poyo," realized Kirby, remembering that Luigi had endured the same thing.

Luigi nodded gravely. "They did so many things to me, and you helped me through it. It's my turn to help you now."

Kirby slowly smiled. "Poyo," he said in thanks, puffing himself into Luigi's arms.

Luigi hugged him tenderly, wishing to shelter him, to protect him.

"Pichu?"

They broke the embrace to stare at the pre-evolved Pokémon, his eyes huge with concern. He, too, had been placed in the lowest tier and realized, like Luigi before him, that the lower tiers had to stick together.

"Yes, Pichu. Everything's fine," Luigi assured him, the words coming out a bit bluntly. As mentioned before, tensions were building between Luigi and Pikachu over their side-specials. Pikachu had Skull Bash, whereas Luigi had his Green Missile. The electric mouse had accused the plumber of copying him, which the man in green passionately denied. The issue was slowly but surely brewing into a race to prove one side special superior over the other. Pichu, being Pikachu's pre-evolved form, had almost immediately sided with him.

But standing here and seeing how Pichu was trying to look out for Kirby, while Pikachu was barely giving him the time of day, touched Luigi's heart. His face softened, just a little, and his tone was significantly less blunt when he asked, "Can you—will you please help him?"

Pichu nodded eagerly. "Pi!"

"Thanks," said Luigi, a silent understanding forming between them.

"Is everything all right here?" Mario arrived to check on his little bro and saw him holding Kirby. "Wha…" He rushed back to the list and saw where they'd placed the little guy. "Oh."

"He needs us," Luigi said simply. "All of us."

Mario quietly nodded.

"Of course," said Peach.

Douglas looked at his feet, Samus holding his hand in support.

"Fox…" he muttered.

"What? Why the long faces?" asked the vulpine, arm-in-arm with Falco.

"I think you know the answer to that, Fox," said Luigi.

"L…" cautioned Samus. "I think Fox is trying to cheer us up. Aren't you, Fox?"

"Yeah, that's right! The tier list is up, but it's not the end of the world! C'mon, Kirbs, lighten up! We all still like you! We just—wouldn't be caught dead having you as a teammate. But…" he quickly amended, "we'll use the opportunity to make you better!"

"I don't recall you making me such an offer," Luigi said tightly.

"Well—I've changed since then," said Fox. "So how about it, Kirbs? Wanna do us a favor and turn that frown upside down?"

Gasps of disbelief.

"What? Moping won't get him out of the bottom slot! You want my advice, Kirbs? Get over it! Don't ruin the moment for the rest of us, kay?" He sauntered out of the room with Falco, leaving everyone else slack-jawed.

"Don't listen to him, Kirby," said Luigi. "He's just trying to get to you."

"Poyo," whimpered Kirby. The vulpine had succeeded.

Cuddling the puffball, Luigi scoured the area for any sign of Pikachu, hoping he'd get him to end this silly feud for Kirby's sake. But he was nowhere to be found.

Floating nearby, Master Hand observed the scene with a growing sense of dread. It was clear that Fox hadn't learned a thing after two years. And Pikachu—he thought he and Kirby were an item! Why wasn't he giving him a shoulder to lean on? And why was he antagonizing Luigi all of a sudden?

A cold feeling arose in MH's stomach as he floated away to ponder his next move.

There wasn't any social media back then, but there were cell phones and blogs, so word soon spread that Kirby, the proud Star Warrior, was now considered the worst fighter of Super Smash Bros Melee.

As such, his adventures to defend Dreamland from vicious monsters and greedy kings were all but forgotten as the salivating hounds found someone new to project their flaws onto. They either respected Luigi's improvement from the first tournament or just didn't care. They were hungry for new meat. And due to Kirby's naiveté, they were going to enjoy getting to him!

Luigi tried to warn Kirby. He tried to prepare him. But he was unable to prepare him for the sheer hostility waiting for the pink hero that day. The hounds sat eagerly in the stands, waiting for the right moment. Kirby and his opponent were introduced, and the two fighters got ready for battle. As soon as Kirby threw his first punch, the hounds pounced.

"Filthy casual!"

Where that insult came from and who came up with it, nobody knew. The solitary voice shouting the name floated down the spectator area and then lashed into Kirby. He didn't know what a "filthy casual" was, but he knew that it was being directed at him, and it just sounded _wrong_.

"Filthy casual!" The second voice struck like a venomous viper, throwing off Kirby's fight strategy. The opponent took advantage and punched him hard, sending him flying.

"Filthy casual!" The third voice sliced deep into Kirby, pain registering in his eyes. He tried to will it away so he could concentrate on the foe, to no avail.

Gleefully, the opponent took advantage of Kirby's new flaws, having no qualms about kicking him while he was down. By and by, the voices filled the arena, the words "filthy casual" rising like some sort of sadistic chant, laughter searing into the pink puff like fire. Kirby felt trapped, the words and laughter driving into him like his foe's relentless blows. He saw a few of his friends up there, especially Luigi, trying to urge him on, but it was fighting a losing battle as hostile forces assailed him on all sides.

But what arguable hurt the most was that Pikachu wasn't there. Pichu was cheering him on, but Kirby could really use Pikachu's loving arms right now. He was supposed to be his other half; he was supposed to be there for him when times were rough. But where was he, moping over his side special? There were far more serious matters to deal with!

When the match mercifully ended, the majority of the spectators laughed like hyenas at Kirby's loss, throwing their food at him, booing and jeering. Tiff and Tuff, who'd come from Dreamland to watch the match, wore pitying looks. Luigi glared darkly at the hecklers around him, but it did little good. He watched, pained as Kirby dashed off the stage, hiding his face with his appendages.

Luigi clenched his fists. These guys didn't learn anything—not a thing! Hot with anger, the man in green rose from his seat and marched toward the locker room.

Douglas glanced askance at Fox, casually munching on Cracker Jacks as his eyes ate up the action. He closed his eyes, blind with pain and guilt as the memories of his actions rushed back. He couldn't reach his friend; he didn't know how. He'd just brush him off because he was top tier. Falcon sighed. "I just don't know what to do," he whispered.

Samus wrapped her arms around him. "Don't push it. I'm sure they'll snap out of this for a while." Yet she knew in her heart that she was merely hoping against hope.

In the men's locker room, Luigi found Kirby slumped face-down on a bench, his sobs muffled. Cautiously, the plumber crossed the room and sat down next to him.

"Kirby…" he uttered painfully.

The puffball looked up. "Poyo, p-poyo," he sniffled.

Luigi carefully lifted Kirby and placed him on his lap, soothing him like an infant. "It's all right now, Kirby. It's okay. I'm with you. I'm with you."

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